#like i knew you were gonna use my words against me...
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Simon knew marriage came with adjustments, but nothing could have prepared him for life with a writer.
It wasn’t just the weird questions—though there were plenty of those—it was the way your mind never seemed to slow down. You’d be doing something completely normal, like folding laundry, and suddenly stop, eyes going distant.
He’d barely have time to ask what was wrong before you’d rush off to scribble something down, muttering about plot twists and character arcs.
Sometimes, he’d wake up in the middle of the night to find you sitting up in bed, phone screen lighting up your face as you frantically typed notes because “this idea can’t wait until morning.”
It meant half-finished coffee cups scattered around the house, abandoned when inspiration hit.
It meant narrating your own actions under your breath, like “she sighed, stretching her arms above her head” while actually doing it, which always made him raise an eyebrow.
And then there were the moments that made him question everything, like when you casually asked if he thought someone could realistically survive being shot twice in the chest or how long a body would take to decompose in a swamp. He used to answer with concern. Now, he barely looked up. “For a book?” “For a book.”
At first, he thought the strangest part was the research, but then he realized it was how easily you pulled him into it. You used him for everything—testing out fight scenes by making him grab your wrist so you could figure out how a character would escape, running your hands over his shoulders and down his arms as you mumbled about muscle structure and “what kind of build do you think my main guy should have?”
You studied him constantly, stealing phrases he said, describing his expressions in your notes, even admitting once that a few of your male characters had a bit of his attitude.
And then there was the way you used him for other inspiration. He figured it out one evening when he saw you sitting on the couch, staring at him with that look—one that usually meant you had something on your mind, but this time, you weren’t saying anything. Just watching.
He glanced over from where he was cleaning his gun. “What?”
You didn’t answer right away, just tilted your head slightly. “I think I want to write a new scene.”
He raised his brow, setting his things aside. “What kind of scene?”
A small smile played on your lips as you stood, walking toward him. “Something a bit messy.”
Simon leaned back, arms resting lazily on the couch as he looked you up and down. “You need details, then?”
“Mhm.” You straddled his lap, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. “Need to get it just right.”
He smirked, his hands settling on your waist. “That why you’re lookin’ at me like I’m about to be put to work?”
“You don’t mind a little hard work, do you?” you teased, nails scraping lightly against his skin.
His grip tightened, voice low. “Not if you’re gonna make it worth my while.”
Much later, when you were tangled in the sheets, catching your breath, you rolled over and reached for your phone. Before you could even unlock it, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against Simon’s chest. “Nope,” he muttered against your shoulder.
You laughed. “I just had a thought—”
“Don’t care.” His voice was warm and heavy with sleep. “Whatever you’re about to write down, you can remember it in the morning.”
“But—”
A hand slid down your hip, fingers pressing into your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I said, in the morning,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. Then, just to make sure you listened, he added, “Be a good girl and go to sleep.”
Your entire body heated at the words, your brain short-circuiting for a second before snapping into overdrive. Without a word, you bolted upright, nearly diving for your phone as you started typing furiously.
Simon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you serious?”
“Shhh,” you hushed him, fingers flying across the screen. “This is really good.”
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@daydreamerwoah
#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x female oc#simon ghost riley#simon riley imagine#simon ghost x reader#simon riley#simon riley cod#cod mw2
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— ✩♬ ₊˚. TE PERDÍ ⭑
daniela avanzini x fem!reader
summary daniela messed up- badly. now, she’s standing in the rain, desperate to fix what she broke. but sometimes, wounds don’t heal, and some love stories don’t get second chances.
disclaimers: angst... because it's fun. cheater daniela (sorry), i used lizeth selene as a face claim, but there is no physical description in the fic, so you can imagine whoever!
01. 25. 25 10:43 pm
"hey, y/n... it's me. again."
"i know you probably won't listen to this, but i just -fuck, i don't know. i don't even know why i keep calling. i just- i can't stop thinking about you."
"i messed up, i know that. but please, just call me back."
01. 27. 25 12:17 am
"saw your post today. you looked good... happy."
"i mean, i guess that's the whole point, right? you're moving on. you're showing me that you don't need me. but-"
" - i need you."
"please, y/n. just let me talk to you."
2:04 am
"you wanna know the worst part?"
"i wake up, every morning, reaching for you. i still sleep on my side of the bed like you're gonna walk in any second and crawl under the covers like you used to... like we didn't fuck everything up."
"like i didn't fuck everything up."
"just tell me how to fix it... please. tell me what to do. say anything. say you hate me... just... don't leave me in silence."
—
you stared at you phone, thumb hovering over the play button on the next voicemail. 4:38 am. you don't press it. you already knew what it would play.
another broken apology. another desperate plea.
you should've blocked her. you should've deleted these messages days ago.
but some part of you -maybe the part that still remembered how daniela used to whisper 'I love you' against you skin- couldn't bring yourself to do it.
not just yet.
a loud knock at the door made you jump, breaking you out of a trance.
you already knew who it was.
you debated ignoring it, letting her stand out there in the rain until she finally got the message. But you knew dani. you knew she wouldn't leave until she had her answer.
exhaling sharply, you opened the door.
and there she was.
daniela avanzini. drenched, from head to toe, rain dripping from her lashes. her hoodie, soaked through
but her eyes- they were what undid you the most.
they weren't cocky, weren't full of the usual cheeriness daniela held.
they were just...pleading.
"y/n..." her voice was hoarse- desperate. "please."
you didn't say anything.
daniela swallowed hard, shifting on her feet. "can i-just five minutes. that's all i'm asking."
you hesitated. but then stepped aside.
daniela entered, dripping water onto the floor, but neither of you seem to care. she was too focused on you- like she was scared you'd disappear if she looked away.
"i fucked up," daniela started, voice raw. "i know that. and i know i don't deserve a second chance, but i need you to hear me."
you crossed her arms. "fine."
daniela let out a shaky breath. "i was an idiot, okay? i thought... i thought i could have it all. you. the group. the late nights. the fans." her voice grew quieter. "the girls."
you clenched your jaw.
daniela noticed and stepped closer, eyes shining. "but it wasn't real. none of it was real, y/n. it was just- just...bullshit. and by the time i realized that, by the time i realized you were the only real thing i had -" she stopped, shaking her head. "it was too late."
you inhaled sharply. "you cheated on me, dani." the words cut through the air like a blade.
daniela flinched. "I know." her voice was barely a whisper. "but i need you to know that it didn't mean anything. that she didn't mean anything."
you scoffed. "and i'm supposed to believe that?"
daniela's face crumpled. "you're supposed to believe that i love you."
you looked away, blinking hard. "you don't do that to someone you love."
daniela exhaled shakily. "i was scared.
you chuckled, head snapped up. "of what?"
daniela ran a hand through her wet curls, frustration flashing across her face. "of getting too close. of needing you more than i should." her voice cracked. "and i did. i needed you. and i fucked it up because i was too stupid to realize that needing you wasn't a weakness-"
all you could do is stare at her.
daniela stepped forward, hesitantly, like she wasn't sure if she was still allowed to.
"i can be better. i want to be better. for you. for us." she swallowed hard. "just give me one more chance."
you let out a bitter laugh. "one more chance?" you shook your head. "do you know how many times i've given you one more chance? how many times i let the late-night texts slide? the flirting? the bullshit excuses?"
daniela's shoulders sank.
"i loved you, daniela" you whispered. "god, i loved you..." your voice wavered. "and all i ever wanted was for you to love me enough to choose me. just me."
daniela's breath hitched.
"but you didn't." you swallowed the lump in your throat. "and i'm not gonna be the girl who keeps waiting for you to figure it out."
daniela took a step forward, eyes shining with something desperate. "but i have figured it out." her voice was breaking now, cracking under the weight of it all. "i choose you, y/n. i choose you right now. please, don't let this be the end."
your eyes burned. you wanted to believe her.
gosh, you wanted to.
But you couldn't.
you had spent too many nights waiting. too many nights wondering if you was enough.
and you refuse to do it again.
you exhaled softly. "i can't daniela."
daniela sucked in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly. "y/n-"
"i can't," you repeated, firmer this time. "i won't."
daniela's face crumpled. for a second, she looked like she might argue again, like she might drop to her knees if it meant you would take her back.
but she didn't.
instead, she let out a slow, shuddering breath and nodded.
daniela glanced at the door, then back at you, memorizing you like it was the last time she'd ever see you.
because it was.
and when she finally turned and walked out, you didn't stop her.
you let the door close.
and outside, the rain kept falling.
and somewhere on your phone, another voicemail went unheard.
"i know i couldn't give you what you gave me”
“and even though i'm dying to have you here, i know i lost you... te perdí"
a/n: te perdí was literally the best song from rebelde. netflix was messy for not putting it on spotify. also this is my first time writing a fic so please lmk how it was 😭🙏
#daniela avanzini#katseye#katseye x reader#daniela katseye#daniela x reader#daniela avanzini katseye#daniela avanzini x female reader#daniela avanzini x reader#katseye smau#katseye fluff#katseye angst#megan skiendiel#megan katseye#megan skiendiel x reader#lara raj#lara raj x reader#sophia laforteza#sophia katseye#sophia laforteza x reader#manon katseye#manon bannerman#meret manon#manon bannerman x reader#katseye x female reader#daniela avanzini smau#katseye scenarios#kpop angst#wlw#katseye imagines
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Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 13
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo
Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?
Warnings: angst, tension
The morning sun spilled through the sheer curtains, my head was still heavy from last night, and my body feeling sheer exhaustion of what had happened. I had barely slept, replaying the scene at the restaurant over and over in my mind. The embarrassment, the sting of Matt’s words, the way I had to walk away while holding back tears.
A soft knock at my door made me wake that bit more. "Hey, you awake?" I hear Nick’s voice from through the door.
I remembered I locked it once Matt left last night so I pulled myself from my bed and unlocked the door letting Nick to come in. I turned and walked back to my bed, sitting up against the headboard, pulling the covers around me. Nick closed the door behind him before standing at the end of the bed. "Alright, spill. What the hell happened last night? You left, and then Matt stormed in looking like he just saw a ghost."
I exhaled, rubbing my temples before looking at him. "Your mom asked Nate if he was seeing anyone, and he said no, which was fine, right? But Matt decided to make it seem like that was some kind of rejection for me, like I was meant to be upset about it. Then, out of nowhere, he brings up to your mom and dad that Nate and I went on a ‘date’, which you know yourself wasn’t even a date, so then Nate tried to clarify that we were just friends, but Matt just kept pushing it. Then he said that I was a quick fuck and then friend zoned. Right in front of your parents." I swallowed, feeling the embarrassment all over again.
Nick’s eyes widened slightly, but his expression darkened. "What the fuck?"
I scoffed, shaking my head. "Yeah and I’m so embarrassed if your parents heard that last part because first of all, I had just met them, and second of all, it’s just not even true. It made me look bad, it made Nate uncomfortable, and Matt acted like he had some right to embarrass me like that."
Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No I get why you’re upset like he was way out of line. But listen, when Chris and I came back in, our parents said you were lovely and that they hoped you felt better soon. I’m telling you they didn’t hear that part."
I let out a slow breath of relief. "Really?"
"Really" Nick nodded. "They just thought you weren’t feeling well and needed to leave early."
I sank back into my pillows, finally feeling like I could breathe a little easier. "Good. Because I swear, I was ready to dig a hole and disappear forever."
Nick laughed. "Nah, no disappearing allowed. But are you gonna talk to Matt about it?"
I frowned, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "We did last night kinda, but I’m still so angry. And the worst part is, I don’t even know why he acted like that. It was like he wanted to embarrass me."
Nick shrugged. "Matt’s an idiot. He says dumb shit, but he also knows when he’s messed up. I guarantee you, he feels like shit about it right now."
"Good" I muttered, still unwilling to entertain the idea of forgiving him just yet.
Nick sighed again but didn’t push it further. "Alright, well, the four of us are going out with my parents for the day. You coming?"
I shook my head. "I think I’m just gonna stay back here today, I just want things to die down."
"Thats cool." He stood up, stretching. "Try not to overthink it too much, alright?"
I gave a half smile. "Easier said than done."
As Nick left the room, I rolled onto my side, staring out the window at the pool below. I knew I wouldn’t be able to just brush this off, but at least, for now, I could breathe a little easier knowing that Nick’s parents didn’t hear Matt’s words. Still, the anger remained, simmering just beneath the surface. Eventually, I decided I needed some air, some sun, some quiet, and a break from all the tension.
I slipped out of bed and grabbed my swimsuit, opting for a tiny bikini that I knew would be perfect for lounging by the pool. The straps sat snug against my skin, the warm morning air already filtering through the open balcony doors as I pulled my hair up out of my face. After tossing on a loose cover up, I slid into my sliders and grabbed a towel before heading downstairs.
As I reached the foyer, the others were gathered, chatting and getting ready to head out for the day. The energy in the room was light, filled with laughter and the occasional clatter of sunglasses being thrown into bags. As soon as they spotted me, they greeted me, well everyone except Matt, who didn’t even glance in my direction.
Chris was the first to speak. “You coming with us?” His tone was casual, but his eyes scanned my face like he was checking in.
I shook my head, adjusting my towel over my arm. “Nah, I think I’m going to take it easy today. Just chill by the pool and relax.”
Nate nodded approvingly. “Honestly? Probably the smarter move.”
Chris shot me a small smile. “Enjoy the sun. We’ll be back later.”
I returned the smile, forcing the tension from last night out of my mind. “You guys have fun.”
With that, they all filed out the front door, their voices fading as they disappeared down the steps. The villa was suddenly silent, the only sound being the faint rustling of palm trees outside.
I exhaled slowly before grabbing an ice tea from the fridge and making my way out to the pool, letting the warm sun wrap around me as I laid my towel down on one of the lounge chairs. Finally, peace and quiet.
I stretched out on the lounge chair, letting the sun soak into my skin as I sipped on the cold drink. I had left the villa door open, wanting to hear when everyone got back, but after a while, another sound caught my attention.
A knock.
Frowning, I sat up, adjusting my bikini top before grabbing my cover up and slipping it over my hips. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and the guys wouldn’t have knocked, they had keys.
As I rushed barefoot across the cold tile floor, I hesitated for a second before pulling the door open.
A mailman stood there, holding a large box. He barely glanced up before handing it over. “Delivery for Fresh Love.”
I furrowed my brows but took the package, feeling the weight of it in my arms. “Oh, thanks.”
With a nod, he turned and walked back down the driveway. I shut the door with my foot and carried the box to the kitchen counter, setting it down with a small thud. I smirked, realizing this must be the personalized samples Chris had mentioned, the ones he ordered for all of us. I pulled out my phone and snapped a quick picture of the box before opening up my messages with Chris.
Me: Personalised samples just got delivered.
A few seconds later, the typing bubbles appeared.
Chris: Sick! You check ‘em out yet?
I glanced at the box, debating if I should wait for him or just open it now.
Me: Not yet. Was gonna let you do the honours.
Chris: Okay cool. We can do a shoot with them at sunset later.
I bring the box up to Chris’ room and set it on the bed so he can see everything when we get back in. If we’re doing a shoot I want to look extra radiant and glowy, and that won’t happen from standing inside the villa. I grabbed one of the body oils in my room before making my way back out to the pool. I poured a little into my palm, rubbing it over my legs as I stretched back out on the lounge chair.
Matt’s POV
We were halfway through the guided tour when Chris suddenly checked his phone and said, “Oh, the personalized samples came in. Y/n just texted me.”
Hearing her name wasn’t helpful. Not when I hadn’t been able to get her off my mind since last night, and god how she looked in that bikini earlier didn't help. I kept my eyes straight ahead, pretending I didn’t care, but my mom didn’t let it slide. “Oh, Y/n is such a lovely girl” she said with a warm smile, then turned to me. “Is she feeling better now, sweetheart?”
Before I could even begin to answer, Nick cut in smoothly. “Yeah, she’s fine. Just needed a bit of sleep.” His tone was light, brushing off the question like it wasn’t worth pressing. He knew me well enough to know that I didn’t want to talk about it, especially not here, not in front of everyone.
I kept my mouth shut and just nodded in agreement, though the truth was, I felt far from fine. Guilt sat heavy in my chest, chipping away at me. Last night, I had let my emotions get the best of me. I let jealousy, because let’s be honest, that’s exactly what it was, take control, and I lashed out in the worst way possible. I had said something cruel, something I couldn’t take back. And knowing Y/n, she wasn’t the type to just let it roll off her shoulders. She put up walls, and I had given her every reason to keep me on the other side of them.
The more I thought about it, the worse it got. I had no right to be mad at her, no right to act like what she did or didn’t do with Nate, or anyone else for that matter, was any of my business. But that hadn’t stopped me from taking a low blow, from making her feel small in front of people who barely even knew her. If she had done that to me, I’d be furious. So what did that say about me?
I exhaled, dragging a hand through my hair as I barely registered the tour guide’s voice. My mind was somewhere else entirely.
I had to make this right.
I knew I had a way to make it up to her, it was something I should've done ages ago. And now, I could only hope it wasn’t too late for her to forgive me.
Y/n’s POV
I was sitting outside on the patio, a plate of food in my lap as I watched the sun dip below the horizon. The sky was painted in soft shades of pink and orange, the kind of sunset that made everything feel a little quieter, a little more peaceful. It was one of those moments I wished I could freeze in time, just me, the sunset, and the distant sound of waves hitting onto the shore.
But then, the front door swung open, breaking the stillness.
The familiar sounds of shuffling feet and tired voices filled the villa as the guys returned. I set my plate aside and stood up, making my way inside to greet them.
“Hey” I said, leaning against the kitchen counter as they walked in.
They all looked exhausted, Chris, Nate, Matt, and Nick, their faces slightly sunburnt, their hair tousled from the slight breeze and even though they didn’t say much at first, their body language said it all.
Chris let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair as he took his cap off. “Long day,” he muttered. “We were out in the sun for way too long, and I think it’s catching up to everyone.”
Nate groaned in agreement, tossing his sunglasses onto the counter. “I need, like, ten hours of sleep.”
Matt didn’t say much, just nodded, his jaw tight. He looked at me for half a second before glancing away, like he was trying to avoid something, most likely me. I ignored the sting in my chest and forced a small smile.
“Yeah, we’re all wiped” Nick added, stretching his arms above his head. “Think we’ll just stay in tonight, order some takeout, crash early.”
“That’s fine with me” I said, realizing I was more drained than I thought. Between being in the sun all day and everything that happened last night, I could use a quiet night too. “I left that box in your room” I say turning to Chris.
“Cool I’ll have a look now, we can take pictures tomorrow evening instead, when everyones a bit more awake”
And with that, Chris, Nate, and Matt didn’t waste any time disappearing into their rooms, clearly eager to knock out for a bit.
Nick lingered behind, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m gonna shower first, but after that, I’ll come to your room? We can just chill for a bit, a movie maybe?.”
I nodded. “Sounds good.”
I walk up to my room, kicking the door shut behind me as I switch on the TV. The smart TV mounted on the wall was a lifesaver, especially on nights like this when there wasn’t much going on. I sink onto the bed, remote in hand, sifting through Netflix, too see if theres anything both Nick and I would like. The knock on the door wasn’t enough to pull my attention from the screen since I assume it’s Nick, I don’t even think twice before calling out, “Come in.”
But it’s not Nick.
It’s Matt.
He stands there in the doorway, looking uncertain, a silver metallic gift bag dangling from his fingers. Looking like the same one I spotted in his room next to my ‘Thank You’ card. For a moment, neither of us speak. We just stare at each other, the weight of unspoken words thick in the space between us.
My tone is blunt when I finally ask, “Are you alright?”
Matt doesn’t answer. Instead, he lifts the bag slightly, as if offering it to me. His expression is unreadable, something between nervousness and determination.
“What is it?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“Just look in it” he says quietly.
I hesitate for a second before reaching out, taking the metallic bag from his grasp. Peeling back the layers of tissue paper inside, my breath catches in my throat.
It’s my locket.
The delicate chain pools in my palm, the pendant glinting from the sunset shining in my balcony window. My fingers tighten around it as I snap my gaze back up to Matt, my heart pounding.
“Where did you get this?” I demand, my voice barely above a whisper.
a/n : most of this is a bit of a filler soz
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#snowy speaks#fire & desire#snowys sturniolo series#snowys series#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#enemies to lovers#matt sturniolo fanfic
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IT'S OKAY, WE'RE OKAY, WE ARE DEFINITELY NOT OKAY JUJU WATKINS x READER
Summary: After the losing game against Iowa, you and juju get into a nasty argument that leads to your teammates separating the both of you.
Warning: Angst Angst Angst, swearing, throwing shit around, bad juju and reader
Authors note: The match was something, so that is why we get angst for times like this, anyways happy reading feedback and requests are always appreciated 💕.
Tension within the team was high no one said a word as everyone entered inside the bus. All you wanted to do was sit down next to your girl and comfort each other, but that was a no brainer as she passed by and ignored you.
Her ignoring you kinda hurt but you weren't gonna push past it. You tried sending her texts only for her to swipe them each time, you saw her groan turning off her phone.
A pit was forming down your stomach but you ignored the feeling like a fool.
You knew the type of player juju was when things don't go the way they were supposed to. Right now with the loss she was definitely beating herself up over it. no one likes to lose, especially to a team that wears the ugliest shade of yellow.
Arriving at the hotel felt like you were about to step into a battle zone. Once again you tried getting juju's attention by grabbing her hands, but all she did was yank her hands away from yours like you were some insects coming to disturb her.
You tried one last time by tapping her shoulder until she finally snapped at you, raising her voice, something that she's never does always trying her best to be calm with you.
"Bro what the fuck do you want can you not get the hint that maybe I do not want to deal with your shit tonight". You heard her say which was shocking. Because she never had an outburst likes this not even infront of your teammates or others, so her doing this just made you feel like an attention seeker which made you embarrassed.
"First off, watch how you're talking to me because I do not curse at you whatsoever and all I was trying to do was comfort my teammate who thinks the whole world is on her shoulders when the team has a few bad games but it fuck me right?." You said to her.
a few of your teammates who hadn't head upstairs came to where you and juju trying to calm things down, but that only made things escalate.
"Wow this coming from the player that left the 3 pointer line all wide fucking open and probably cost us the game". The moments those words came out of juju mouth she insanely regretted them but it was to late because you already heard them.
"I'm so sorry that not everyone can be there own fucking Judea watkins that's oh so prefect". You threw back at her tears clearly streaming down your face
It was too late for juju to say anything as kiki and Ray came separating the both of you.
The looks from your coaches were equally heartbreaking because no one wants to witness their best players tearing each other to threads.
A wave of guilt filled juju as everything she said to you hit her like a brick stone she was obviously in her head and wasn't thinking at all but the damage was already done. She made you cry and hurt you're feelings what type of girlfriend and teammate was she?. Was all she wondered now.
You we're already walking off with kiki.
She tried saying something but was cut off by one of the coaches who told her not to.
"It not worth it juju just head back upstairs, we'll be having a serious talking about both of your behaviors ray please help juju up to her room". she heard coach say, heading back the other way with ray, head facing down has she pulled her hoodie strings ashamed of how she acted.
What she didn't see was the way you turned around, hoping for her to say something at all it could've been anything but she didn't.
Only leaving both of you to sleep with heavy hearts having a thin wall separating you once more, you guys were definitely not okay and no one was okay.
#juju watkins#juju watkins x reader#juju watkins imagine#wbb#usc women’s basketball#usc wbb x reader#wbb x reader#wbb fic#wcbb x reader#wcbb fanfics#wbb imagine#ncaa wbb#usc trojans#usc wbb#wbb oneshot#wbb fanfiction#wbb fluff#juju watkins fanfics
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𝔉𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔲𝔫𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔡
Mike Munroe x male reader
Summary: Mike had always liked a challenge, but you were downright impossible. Reckless, sharp-tongued and way too eager to throw yourself into danger. Half the time, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to strangle you or kiss you. But after one stunt too many, he decided he’d had enough. If you weren’t gonna listen to reason, maybe he’d just have to teach you some other way
Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. No use of Y/N. Enemies/Friends to lovers. Love confession. Lots of remarks. Make out session. Lots of dirty talk. Brat tamer Mike Munroe. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Dom Mike Munroe. Bottom male reader. Hate sex. Anal sex.
Words count: 5000 words
The sanatorium smelled of rot and blood, the air so thick with decay it felt like it could clog your throat. Every step echoed in the hollow corridors.
Mike Munroe had always thought he'd seen the worst of it with the mines and those wendigos clawing at the edges of his sanity but nothing compared to the sheer insanity of trying to keep you alive.
He knew you were reckless, borderline suicidal in your determination to protect him, and it pissed him off to no end, brown eyes fixed on you with a burning kind of anger that only came from sheer terror.
Mike stayed on your heels, his shotgun cradled in white-knuckled hands while you pushed forward even as caged wendigos rattled their bars and clawed at the air mere inches from your skin. That same reckless confidence Mike had come to admire and despise in equal measure.
"Jesus Christ, slow the fuck down," Mike hissed, his voice low but sharp. "You think those things can't get to you if you're strutting like that?"
"Relax," you shot back without turning to look at him, your voice dripping with that trademark sarcasm he'd grown to loathe in moments like this. "They're behind bars."
"Don't fucking tempt fate," he snapped, his teeth grinding. He hated how casually you brushed off danger. It was the kind of arrogance that made his blood boil and his stomach churn with worry all at once.
As if on cue, a skeletal arm shot through the bars to your right, claws slicing through the air with terrifying speed. You flinched, sidestepping the swipe with a quick motion.
Another wendigo near the end of the row lunged, its claws stretching impossibly far through the bars. Mike moved before you could react, slamming you against the opposite wall with one hand as the shotgun exploded in the other. The blast silenced the wendigo's screech, its emaciated body crumpling behind the cage.
"Stay the fuck behind me," he barked, his voice cutting through the ringing in your ears. His face was inches from yours, streaked with dirt and sweat, his eyes wild.
"Just once, could you do what I say without arguing?"
"You should try trusting me sometime and let me help you out." There was a sharp gleam in your eyes as you grinned despite the adrenaline tearing through your veins.
"Help?" He laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in the dark. "The only thing you've helped with is shaving years off my lifespan."
"Aw, you care." Your grin was maddening, a cocky tilt to your head that sent a jolt of something sharp and hot through his chest.
Mike let out a frustrated growl, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the muscles working beneath his skin.
Another wendigo lunged, this one on his blind side. Time seemed to slow as its claws arced toward his neck, the jagged edges glinting in the dim light.
Without thinking, you moved.
Your body slammed into his, shoving him out of the way as you raised your arm to block the swipe. Pain exploded across your forearm as the claws raked deep, hot blood spilling down your sleeve. Mike spun around, his voice a roar of panic before the shotgun fired again, the recoil jolting his entire body as the wendigo flew back into the cage with a sickening crunch. He caught you before you could hit the floor, his hands gripping your shoulders as his eyes scanned the deep gashes marring your arm.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he yelled, his voice shaking with equal parts fury and fear.
You winced, blood seeping from the fresh gash in your side but the corner of your mouth quirked up in a half-smile. “Saving your life. It worked, didn't it?"
"Saved my—" His voice broke off as his fingers tightened on your arms, his knuckles white. "You're bleeding all over the goddamn place!”
The wendigos in the cages shrieked louder, their skeletal bodies throwing themselves against the bars, the metal groaning under the weight of their emancipated bodies. Mike hauled you to your feet, his grip firm as he dragged you toward the end of the hall.
The door loomed ahead, heavy and rusted, the handle worn smooth by time. You threw your weight against it, your injured arm screaming in protest as Mike fired another shot behind you.
The door groaned and gave away with a metallic screech and you stumbled inside, turning just in time to see Mike fire point-blank into a wendigo lunging at him. You grabbed a rusted metal barrel and hurled it into the hall, the clang echoing ominously as it rolled toward the wendigos.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" Mike yelled, his voice raw. He blasted the wendigo mid-lunge, the creature's body crumpling far away.
"Stop yelling at me and shoot it already!" you snapped back, your voice sharp and biting.
Mike's fury boiled over, his hands shaking as he leveled the shotgun at the barrel and fired. The explosion lit up the hallway, the shockwave knocking you both backward as flames roared through the air.
He grabbed you, pulling you against him as debris rained down, his body shielding yours from the worst of it. The door slammed shut behind you with a metallic clang.
Smoke was still thick in the air as you tore a piece of the blood-soaked fabric from your shirt, grimacing as you tied it around the gash on your arm. It wasn't clean, but it was tight, and that was good enough. You let out a hiss as you cinched the knot, the pain sharp but grounding.
Mike didn't wait, by the time you were done self-patching yourself, he was already halfway to the stairs, shoulders rigid as his boots pounded against the cracked stone.
He hadn't said a word or even looked at you yet.
And that bothered you.
Jogging after him, you couldn't help yourself, words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even think.
“You’ve got a weird way of showing gratitude. Most people would say, ‘Hey, thanks for saving me from getting my throat slit.’ But nah, you just throw me around like a ragdoll and storm off. Nice touch. Real alpha male energy.”
He didn't stop. He didn't even turn his head. But you caught the slight twitch of his jaw and the way his grip on the shotgun tightened. He exhaled sharply through his nose and started up the stairs without answering.
You fell into step behind him, your boots scuffing against the stone as you kept talking.
"I see," you said, following close behind. "The silent treatment. Classic. Very mature, Mike."
Still nothing. His boots struck the stone harder now, each step louder than the last. You weren't sure if he was trying to drown you out or if he just couldn't control his frustration anymore.
"I thought we were bonding," you added, your voice dripping with mock disappointment as you kept poking the bear. "You know, saving each other's asses, fighting off horrifying monsters, sharing life-and-death moments. I guess I misread the vibe."
His hand flexed on the shotgun, his knuckles pale, fingers twitching like he was imagining gripping something else entirely.
"You’re mad because I stole your big heroic moment? Is that it? Did I hurt your fragile ego, Munroe? Did I make you feel—"
"Shut the fuck up."
The words hit you like a freight train, his voice booming in the confined space of the stairwell and so heavy with barely-contained anger that it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
The stairs creaked underfoot with each step. The weight of his silence grated against your nerves like nails on a chalkboard.
"Great," you muttered under your breath, stepping into a small, dimly lit room of the hall.
The room was as lifeless as the rest of the sanatorium, its walls cracked and stained with years of neglect. A battered table sat in the corner, its surface cloaked in a thick layer of dust. On top of it, a chessboard lay abandoned, its pieces scattered and forgotten.
Drawn by a flicker of curiosity, you approached the table, running a finger over the dusty edge. The chessboard was frozen mid-game, the moves etched into time like a fossilized memory. You reached for a lone figure, its surface cool and smooth beneath your fingertips. A simple figure of a man that had nothing to do with chess.
You turned it over in your hand, your mind wandering as you considered the lives that had once filled this place before the experiments and the monstrous transformations.
Deliberate and slow footsteps broke through your thoughts. You glanced toward the doorway, catching sight of Mike as he stepped into the room. He didn't speak, didn't meet your eyes. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, shotgun dangling loosely in one hand.
You turned back to the figure, rolling it between your fingers. His childish suiking had stretched thin your patience. If he wanted to sulk, fine. You weren't about to beg for his attention. Two could play at the silent game.
You set the chess piece back down, brushing the dust from your fingers, and let out a quiet huff.
Hell of a place to get all broody.
The sudden, jarring clang of his shotgun landing on the corner of the table startled you, and you barely had time to turn before his hands were on you.
Strong, calloused fingers gripped your arms with bruising force and yanked you forward, forcing you against the edge of the table. Your palms slapped the surface, the chess piece clattering away as Mike's grip held you firmly in place. His chest pressed against your back and you could feel his hot, sharp, and furious breath tickling the shell of your ear.
"Mike, what the fuck?" you spat, twisting against his hold, but he didn't budge.
"What the fuck am I doing?" His voice was low, dangerous, trembling with barely contained fury. "No, the real question is what the fuck you think you're doing. Do you have any idea how done I am with your shit?"
You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at the sound of his voice. "Oh, I don't know," you shot back, your tone sharp despite the position you were in. "Maybe you could enlighten me, since you've been sulking like a toddler for the past ten minutes."
Mike chuckled darkly, the sound devoid of humor. "Still got that smart mouth, huh? Not surprising. You never know when to shut the fuck up."
You bristled at his tone, turning your head just enough to glare at him over your shoulder. "And you never know when to quit being an asshole. Guess we're even."
His grip tightened, fingers digging into your arms just enough to make you wince.
"No, we're not even," he growled, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "Not by a long shot. You've been pushing me all night, running your mouth and throwing yourself into danger like you've got a death wish. I've had enough."
"Yeah?" you snapped, your voice rising in defiance. "Maybe if you stopped treating me like I'm some helpless fucking kid, I wouldn't have to keep proving I can handle myself."
His laugh was sharp and bitter, and you could feel the tension in his body as he pressed you harder against the table. "You call that handling yourself? That's being a reckless, selfish little shit."
"Selfish?" You twisted in his grip, ignoring the ache in your arms. "I was trying to save you, you ungrateful asshole! Or did you forget about the fucking wendigo that was about to rip your head off?"
"Yeah, and you nearly got yourself killed in the process!" he shot back, his voice cracking with the force of his anger. "Do you have any idea what that felt like? Watching you throw yourself in front of that thing, knowing I couldn't stop you? Knowing that if you got yourself killed, it'd be on me?"
His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you didn't know what to say.
You refused to let his words or presence get under your skin. He wasn’t going to win. Not like this.
"So that's what this is about?" you said, your voice laced with defiance. "You can't handle the fact that someone might actually give a shit about you?"
Mike's breath hitched and for a split second, you thought you'd gotten to him. But then he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"No," he said, his lips brushed against your ear, breath hot and heavy. "This is about you learning your fucking place. Right here," he murmured, his voice dark and commanding. "Under me. Doing what I say. Got it?"
The weight of Mike's chest pressed down on your back, his breath hot against the nape of your neck.
And then you felt it.
Thick, hard, and unmistakable, his bulge strained against the denim of his jeans, pressing firmly against your ass as he leaned in further.
Heat rushed through you, blood pumping straight to your dick, shame and arousal twisting into one unbearable, molten thing in your gut, your traitorous body reacting before your brain could catch up.
Mike let out a low, guttural grunt, the sound vibrating through his chest and straight into your spine. "Where's all that attitude now? One little touch and you go quiet on me? Didn't think it'd take this little to shut you up." he muttered, his voice dropping to a rough, husky whisper.
You hissed through clenched teeth, trying to ignore the heat pooling low in your belly as the warmth of his words washed over you. "Fuck you," you spat, your voice cracking slightly as you twisted beneath him.
His laugh came again, rougher this time, edged with something darker. "Fuck me?" he repeated mockingly, pressing his hips forward to grind his bulge against you, the friction sending a jolt through your body. "That's not how this is gonna work, sweetheart. I'm the one calling the shots here."
He yanked you forward and slammed your face flush against the cold table, bending you down perfectly for him. One strong hand threading roughly through your hair, keeping your head pressed down while his other hand splayed firmly against the small of your back, holding you in place. Your legs were spread wide, his own body pressed hard against you, pinning you down with no room to squirm.
You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction. But your silence only seemed to spur him on.
"Look at you,” he growled, voice dropping to a taunting whisper as he leaned down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "All pinned down and squirming under me. Not so tough now, are you?"
"Fuck off," you managed, though the words came out weaker than you intended.
"You always have to fight, don't you? Ain't moving 'til I say so.”
Heat curled through you. Fucking traitorous heat, searing low in your gut, burning through your veins.
"You drive me insane, you know that?" His voice was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every word. "Always have. Right from the start."
Your jaw clenched. "Too bad I can't say the same—"
"Oh, bullshit. You think I don't see the way you look at me?" His voice was taunting now, fingers curling tighter around your wrists, his hips grinding forward to make you fucking feel him. "Always running your mouth, always pushing me, but I see the way your eyes linger when you think I'm not looking. Fuck if it didn't make me want you even more."
You sucked in a sharp breath. Your heart was pounding now from excitement as he yanked your pants down, breath coming in short, uneven gasps as he exposed you completely to him and you gave no struggle or resistance.
"Don't lie to me," he growled, his tone dangerous as he leaned in even closer, the firm press of his cock unmistakable through the rough fabric of his jeans. "I can feel how you’re getting hard while I've got you pinned to a fucking table. You've been dying for this, haven't you? I bet you love seeing me all worked up, ready to lose my goddamn mind over you."
His body pressed closer, his lips brushed just against your skin. "You never fucking stop. Never back down. Always have to prove you're the toughest son of a bitch in the room and I fucking love that about you."
You shivered beneath him, your resolve wavering as his hand slid lower, squeezing your ass.
A sharp slap landed across your ass, the sting of it sending a bolt of heat straight through you. You jerked against the table, your breath coming out ragged, but Mike just chuckled, dragging his hand back up to squeeze the reddening skin.
You bit your lip hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
"Every time you talked back to me and got in my face like you had something to prove, I wanted to shove you down on your knees and see just how mouthy you'd be with my dick filling that bratty little mouth of yours."
Your breath caught, fingers tightening against the table. "You talk a big game," you ground out, jaw tight despite the heat pulsing through you, "but I don't see you doing shit."
Mike's grip on your hair tightened, yanking your head back just enough to force a gasp from your lips.
"You wanna test me, sweetheart?" His voice was low and dangerous, burning with something feral. "You really wanna see what happens when you push me too far?"
You bit back a gasp, biting your lower lip so hard it nearly split, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of your surrender.
"You can grit your teeth and keep that stubborn mouth shut, but your body's already telling me everything I need to know." His voice was a gravelly purr, rich with mockery as his lips skimmed the side of your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
You shivered involuntarily as his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh of your throat, sharp enough to threaten but not to pierce.
Whatever snotty remark you have been about to spew vanished as he spits into his hand, the slick sound loud in the stillness of the room, followed by the warm, wet press of his fingers against your entrance. He didn't rush, didn't ease up; he worked his first finger in with a slow, steady pressure, curling it just enough to make you shudder.
"Shit," you hissed, your hands clawing at the edge of the table as he added a second finger, scissoring his fingers with a ruthless precision. Each twist and deliberate press of his fingers sent jolts of white-hot pleasure up your spine, your breath coming faster as you struggled to hold onto the last threads of your resistance.
"You feel that? That's what happens when you stop running your mouth and start letting me take care of things." Mike murmured, his voice a rough, husky growl as he watched you squirm.
"You're... such a cocky bastard," you bit out, though the breathlessness in your voice betrayed you.
"And you fucking love it," he shot back, his fingers curling and dragging a moan from your throat that you couldn't quite suppress. His smirk widened, his lips brushing against the back of your neck as he added a third finger, stretching you further. "There it is. Knew I'd get you to make those pretty sounds for me."
You gasped, your back arching involuntarily as he pressed deeper, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes. "Fuck—Mike—"
"Say it," he growled, his hand sliding up to grip the back of your neck, holding you firmly in place as his fingers continued their relentless assault. "Say you need me. Say you want me to wreck you."
"Fuck you," you spat, though the tremor in your voice robbed the words of their intended bite.
He chuckled smugly, withdrawing his fingers abruptly, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness. Mike's breath was a ragged growl against your shoulder, his weight pinning you flush against the weathered table as his hands worked deftly to undo his belt.
The sound of his zipper being undone was the only warning you got before you felt the thick, blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance, circling it teasingly.
"Beg for it," he demanded, his voice low and commanding, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. "Beg me to fuck you."
"Do it," you growled, the desperation in your voice making him chuckle as he kept l the head of his cock pressed against your entrance.
"Not until you say it," he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned over you, his lips brushing against your neck. "Tell me what you want."
Your breath hitched, your fingers digging into the table as he pressed forward just enough to make you gasp. "Fuck, Mike—just fuck me already."
"That's more like it," he said, his voice a rough growl as he thrust into you in one smooth motion, the head of his cock breaching you until he buried himself to the hilt. The stretch was overwhelming, a sharp, burning heat that stole the breath from your lungs, but the groan that tore from his throat was pure satisfaction.
"Jesus," he muttered, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he held you there, unmoving, his cock pulsing deep inside you.
You couldn't muster a response. Not when he started to move, his hips snapping against you in a slow, punishing rhythm that left you gasping for air. His grip on your hips was bruising as he set the pace, each thrust sending a fresh wave of pleasure and pain crashing through you.
Mike wasn't one to let you off easy, his hand sliding around to grip your throat, pulling you upright as he drove into you harder, deeper.
"Admit you've been begging for this. Admit you fucking love it." He demanded, his voice a rough growl against your ear.
"Mike," you gasped, your head falling back against his shoulder as he tightened his grip, his cock hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur. "Fuck, I—“
He growled, his teeth sinking into the curve of your neck as his hand slid lower, wrapping around your cock and stroking you in time with his thrusts.
His rhythm growing erratic as he chased his release.
You were trembling, the peak of pleasure hanging just out of reach, so close it burned, and yet he had stopped abruptly.
The noise you made was involuntary, a ragged, guttural sound of frustration ripped from deep within you. It echoed off the room's peeling walls, cutting through the heavy air as Mike's hand stilled against your cock, robbing you of the release you were so desperately chasing. Your sweat-slicked body trembled with need as he brushed his fingers lazily over your cock, deliberately avoiding giving you anything substantial.
He fucking loved it.
He stood behind you, chest heaving, his cock still buried deep inside you as he tilted his head to watch you squirm. The smirk that spread across his face was infuriating, brimming with that maddening mix of smugness and satisfaction that only he could pull off. "Something wrong, sweetheart?" he drawled, his tone dripping with mock concern as he leaned over you, his breath brushing hot against your ear.
You didn't answer, didn't trust yourself to speak without giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead, you clenched your fists against the table, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as you fought to suppress the whimper building in your throat.
He pulled out slowly, the drag of his cock enough to make your breath hitch. And then, he flipped you over. His hands snaked down, strong fingers sliding beneath your legs as he hoisted you up with ease. You barely had time to brace yourself before he slammed you back down onto the table, the impact making your body jolt.
The move left your legs spread wide, his hips slotting perfectly between them as he leaned down, his body pressing against yours. The heat of his cock dragged against yours as he shifted closer until there was no space left between you.
His gaze raked over your face. Flushed cheeks, parted lips, those sharp, defiant eyes still burning with the need to fight him. Christ, you were fucking perfect like this, all wrecked and ruined because of him.
"You look good like this," he murmured, his voice thick with amusement as his lips hovered just over yours, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath. His fingers tightened their grip on your jaw, tilting your face up to his. "All this, just from me." His smirk widened. "And you still wanna act like you don't love it."
You opened your mouth to snap something back but before you could, Mike surged forward, his lips crashing against yours. The kiss was filthy, all tongue and teeth, his body pressing down against yours as he devoured you. His tongue pushed into your mouth, sweeping into your mouth with an eagerness that bordered on frantic while tilting our head to deepen the kiss even further.
He tasted like salt and sweat. Every time you tried to catch your breath, to regain some semblance of control, he pushed harder, pulling another whimper or gasp from your throat.
His cock pressed against yours, hot and slick with the mess of earlier, the friction sending sparks of pleasure racing through you. He moved his hips deliberately, grinding against you as his tongue slid against yours.
You couldn't stop the moan that slipped from your lips, muffled against his mouth and the sound made him groan, low and guttural, his fingers tightening against your skin.
His palms dragged over broad shoulders and down your torso, memorizing every inch of you as he kissed you, his touch firm and possessive.
The heat between you was unbearable now, a steady, relentless build that left you trembling against him. Mike pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and burning as they raked over your face. Your lips were swollen and shiny, your cheeks flushed, your chest rising and falling with every ragged breath.
His hips rolled forward, dragging his cock against yours, the friction making you gasp. He swallowed the sound with another kiss, his hands gripping your thighs, lifting them just enough to shift you higher on the table and wrap them around his waist. He lined himself up almost immediately and sank back inside in one smooth thrust.
You choked on a moan, your back arching off the table as he bottomed out.
"Fuck, that's good," Mike groaned, his forehead dropping against yours for a second, his breath hot and uneven. "Goddamn, you feel—" He cut himself off with a sharp thrust, making you cry out, your nails digging into his back. "Yeah, that's what I wanna hear.”
He started moving again, dragging out every inch before stamming back in, making sure you felt every bit of him. His hands gripped your hips, forcing you to take it, to feel just how deep he was inside you.
His pace was brutal, each thrust sending you sliding up the table, the wood groaning under the force of it. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you open as he fucked into you without mercy. The pleasure was overwhelming, hot and unbearable, coiling low in your stomach, threatening to snap at any second.
"You're mine," he growled, his teeth scraping against your jaw as he drove into you harder. "Say it."
You clenched your jaw, refusing.
Mike clicked his tongue, his hand sliding up to wrap around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. His other hand wrapped around your cock, stroking you in time with his thrusts, dragging you closer, closer, until you were right there, teetering on the edge just like minutes ago.
"Say it," he ordered again, his grip tightening, his pace relentless. "Tell me you're mine, or I swear to God, I'll stop right fucking now."
The threat sent a fresh wave of desperation through you, and you hated him for how easily he could break you down, how much you needed him to just keep fucking moving.
"I'm yours," you finally rasped, the words torn from your throat, raw and wrecked. "You fucking own me! Just don't fucking stop."
The words shattered something inside him. He groaned, deep and guttural, his hips snapping against yours in an erratic, desperate rhythm as he buried himself deep.
With a strangled cry, you came undone, your body trembling as you spilled over his hand. Mike groaned, his pace faltering as he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he came with a guttural moan, his lips crashing against yours in a messy, desperate kiss.
For a moment, the world seemed to still, the only sound in the room, the ragged panting of your breaths as Mike held you close, his forehead resting against yours. And then, with a soft, breathless laugh, he leaned back just enough to look at you, his smirk returning in full force as he brushed a thumb over your flushed cheek.
The scent of sweat and spent adrenaline thick between you. Mike was still inside you, pressed close with his breath ghosting over your lips in shallow, uneven pants. His hand lingered on your cheek, thumb tracing absent patterns over the flushed skin.
Your body ached, the kind of deep, satisfied soreness that came from being well and thoroughly wrecked. Your fingers twitched against his shoulder, nails grazing over the thin sheen of sweat on his skin.
You let out a shaky breath, your pulse pounding in your ears. "Jesus, Mike..." Your voice was hoarse, wrecked, and your lips throbbed from how hard he'd kissed you.
Mike huffed out a breathless laugh, his forehead dropping against your shoulder. "Yeah," he muttered. "Jesus."
The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, filled only by the slowing rhythm of your breaths. Neither of you moved to untangle from the other, and you weren't sure if it was because of the exhaustion sinking into your bones or something else neither of you wanted to admit out loud.
Mike was the first to shift, his hands sliding down to your thighs before gripping the underside of your knees, pushing them wider as he slowly pulled out of you. A sharp gasp ripped from your throat at the overstimulation, your body protesting even as you shivered at the loss of him.
He stood there between your legs, his hands smoothing up your trembling thighs, fingers ghosting over bruises and marks he'd left.
A thick silence stretched between you before he finally lifted his gaze, his jaw tightening. "You good?"
You scoffed, though your voice was weak. "You asking 'cause you care, or 'cause you're wondering if I'm up for round two?"
Mike's smirk was slow, dangerous, his fingers flexed on your thighs, digging in just enough to make you squirm. "You're already that desperate for more?" His voice was husky, dripping with mockery, but the way his pupils dilated told you he wasn't opposed to the idea.
You grinned, reckless as ever, despite the exhaustion in your limbs. "Depends. You think you can keep up? I think I can still feel your pulse in my ass, Munroe."
Mike's smirk widened, but instead of answering, he surged forward, crashing his lips against yours with a force that nearly sent you sprawling back onto the table as he tilted your head back and took control, his tongue pushing past your lips with a filthy, hungry growl.
He licked deep, savoring the heat of you, the lingering taste of salt and adrenaline. The kiss was all messy and wet, his teeth scraping against your lower lip before sucking it into his mouth, nipping just hard enough to make you groan.
Your body was weak, barely able to keep up, and he knew it. He could feel the way your limbs trembled and fuck, he reveled in it.
His hand slid down to your ass, squeezing hard as he pulled you flush against him again, your spent body molding into his as he took everything he wanted.
His lips left yours only to trail down your throat again, his breath hot and heavy as he dragged his teeth along your skin, scraping over your pulse point before sucking a deep, bruising mark onto your skin.
Your head was spinning, your body burning, and all you could do was whimper as he pulled back just enough to let you breathe, his thumb swiping over your swollen bottom lip.
You exhaled heavily, trying to gather whatever strength you had left. But when you went to slide off the table, your legs nearly gave out beneath you, and Mike fucking laughed.
"Can't even stand up straight, huh?" He crossed his arms, watching you with pure, infuriating amusement as you clutched the table for support.
You shot him a glare, but your legs were shaking, your body still wrecked from earlier. "I can walk."
Mike cocked a brow, that shit-eating smirk still plastered on his face. "You sure? 'Cause it looks like I might have fucked you so good you forgot how."
"Shut the hell up.”
He chuckled, stepping forward to grab your arm.
As you limped beside him, Mike leaned in close, voice a low murmur against your ear. "Bet you'll be feelin' that for a while."
You clenched your jaw. "Don't flatter yourself."
Mike just laughed again, shaking his head. "Too late, sweetheart."
And as you made your way back into the darkened halls of the sanatorium, you knew one thing for sure.
You weren't getting rid of him anytime soon.
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Title: Honey, I'm home
Pairing: Juju Watkins x Singer!Reader
Word Count: 1.5k
Genre: Fluff | Secret Relationship | First-Person POV
Summary: Soft Launch pics to Hard Launch kisses
I was sitting cross-legged on my couch, phone in one hand and a bowl of fruit in the other, scrolling through my notifications. My newly released song was everywhere—TikTok, Twitter, Instagram. Fans were analyzing the lyrics, dissecting every line, and trying to figure out who it was about.
They had no idea.
"THIS HAS TO BE ABOUT SOMEONE!" one tweet read.
"Who broke her heart, who healed it, and how do we thank them?" another fan wrote.
I smirked, taking another bite of pineapple. The thing was, the song wasn’t about heartbreak—it was about her.
Juju.
My secret girlfriend.
We had been soft launching each other for months—her wearing my merch at post-game interviews, me casually posting a pic of our intertwined hands without showing her face, her commenting a simple emoji under my pictures. Subtle, but not too subtle. Enough to keep the fans guessing.
Then, she went and turned it up a notch.
Juju Watkins tagged you in a post.
I clicked the notification, and my breath hitched. It was a mirror selfie of us from last night—me leaning against her, half my face visible, and her hand resting on my waist. But what caught my eye was the gold chain around her neck, shining under the dim lighting.
My initials.
And I had the same exact chain with hers.
As if that wasn’t enough, she posted the picture on her Instagram story, with my song playing over it.
The internet went insane.
The next evening, I was in the kitchen, live on Instagram, breaking down the meaning behind the song while cooking.
"Okay, so the first verse is about meeting someone when you least expect it, right? Like, you don't go looking for love, but it just—" I snapped my fingers, "—finds you. That's what happened to me."
The comments were rolling in.
"WHO???"
"Drop the name, girl."
"Soft launch era over???"
I chuckled, stirring the sauce on the stove. "Y'all so nosy."
Just then, the front door swung open.
"Honey, I'm home!"
My soul left my body.
I whipped my head around, eyes wide as Juju strolled into the kitchen, completely unaware that I was live.
The comments blew up instantly.
"JUJU???"
"NAH, DID SHE JUST SAY 'HONEY, I'M HOME'?"
"WE KNEW IT!!!"
Juju finally noticed my phone propped up against the spice rack. Her eyes widened slightly, but instead of backing out, she smirked and walked straight up to me, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind.
"Wait—Ju, I'm live," I whispered, but it was too late.
She kissed my cheek, then my jaw, then—oh. Right on the lips.
The live chat lost its mind.
I groaned, laughing against her lips. "You really just did that?"
Juju grinned, resting her chin on my shoulder. "They were gonna find out eventually, might as well be now."
"HARD LAUNCH LETS GOOOOO."
"Juju said 'idc no more' LMFAOOO."
"I KNEW IT WAS HER I JUST KNEW IT."
I shook my head, playfully pushing her away. "Fine, since you're here, you can help me cook."
Juju held up her hands. "Oh no, last time I helped, you almost set the kitchen on fire."
"That was your fault!" I shot back.
She smirked. "Okay, sure. Babe"
I roll my eyes, "Judea I swear,"
She gasped. "Not you using my full name on live!"
The comments exploded again.
"JUDEA?? WE GETTING GOVERNMENT NAMES NOW???"
"This live is the gift that keeps on giving."
Juju laughed, grabbing a spoon and stirring the sauce. "So, tell them about the bridge in your song. I love that part."
I side-eyed her but continued, "Okay, so the bridge is the most personal part for me. It’s about realizing that love isn't about being found, it's about being seen—and wanting to stay right where you are."
Juju's smile softened. "That’s my favorite line."
I turned back to the camera. "Alright, y’all. That’s enough tea for tonight. Dinner is almost ready, and somebody needs my full attention."
Juju smirked. "Damn right."
And with that, I ended the live, knowing the internet would be in shambles for days.
---
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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶
-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️
#gabi writes#support the writers!#gabi answers#°~prettygirlgabi ask~°#wbb#usc wbb#usc trojans#USC Juju#juju watkins#judea watkins#jujubballin#juju x Reader#juju watkins x reader#juju Watkins oneshot
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┈̸̷┅ ̤ this changes nothing ━̸̷︭
╁ ⠀aegan is typing . . . ⠀⠀ࡆ⠀⠀listen up, because this one's for the grown-ups. if you're here for some steamy, pulse-racing action, you've hit the jackpot. this isn't your grandma's bedtime story; it's spicy, it's hot, and it's gonna keep you up at night for all the right reasons. keep the lights low and the inhibitions lower. enjoy, you naughty thing.
and yeah, i narrated this from matt's pov.
the vibe at jake's party bash in los angeles was electric, but for me, it was like walking into a minefield. there she was, y/n, the one who'd turned our love into a shitshow. our breakup was messy, full of screaming matches and slammed doors, leaving scars that wouldn't heal.
i clocked her from across the room, laughing like she didn't give a fuck, but i knew she was still hung up on us. she was trying too damn hard to act like she was over it, but i could see the cracks, i always did.
"i might've been too perfect, y'know, put up with your crap for way too long," i muttered, accent thick as i cut through the crowd to confront her.
she caught sight of me coming, her eyes narrowing, her fake-ass smile dropping. "well, well, look who decided to show up," she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"of course you're trying and failing to move on now," i shot back, my tone sharp, not letting her see how much it still hurt.
she scoffed, her drink in hand, looking like she was about to chuck it at me. "oh, like you've done any better, mr. perfect."
"i hope you find some dude to fill the emptiness... because we both know you can't survive without a plaything," i said, my voice carrying, the insult clear as day.
her face went red with fury, her hand tightening around her drink. "fuck off, matt. you think you're so damn superior?"
"i'm sure you'll find some sucker to overlook all your bullshit," i kept going, not backing down, the words like poison.
that did it: her arm swung, her drink flying, splashing all over my face, the glass just missing me as it shattered somewhere behind. the crowd gasped, the music seemed to stop, but all i could focus on was her, anger and hurt in her eyes.
"you're such a dick!" she screamed, her voice cracking, the rage real.
i wiped the drink off my face, the cold liquid chilling compared to the heat of our fight. "you always knew how to make an exit, huh?" i said, my voice low and dangerous, barely holding back my own anger.
she was panting, the shock of what she did hitting her. "i fucking hate you," she hissed, but there was something else there, a hint of the love we used to have, now all twisted up.
"and i should've hated you a long time ago," i shot back, the words slicing through any remaining ties.
the tension was unbearable, the air thick with our past and without another word, i grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards a quieter, secluded room off the main party area, the door slamming shut behind us.
"you think you can just come back into my life and fuck it up again?" she spat, her eyes blazing with defiance and something else... desire.
i didn't answer with words, instead, i pushed her against the wall, my body pressed against hers, our breathing heavy, the anger morphing into a raw, primal need. our mouths clashed in a kiss that was more battle than affection, teeth clashing, lips bruising.
"you're such a fucking mess," i growled against her lips, my hands already working on her clothes, the urgency in my movements speaking volumes. i ripped her top up, exposing her breasts, my mouth finding her nipples, sucking hard, making her moan against her will.
"and you're an asshole," she shot back, her hands equally as desperate, pulling at my shirt, her nails digging into my skin as she undid my jeans, freeing my hard cock.
we were a tangle of limbs, the hate fueling our actions, turning our anger into something dark, something passionate. i lifted her, her legs wrapping around me, her skirt hiked up, her panties torn aside in my urgency.
i was inside her with a roughness that spoke of all the pent-up frustration, the hurt, the longing, her pussy tight and wet around me, a testament to her own arousal despite the hate.
"this what you wanted?" i grunted, each thrust a mix of punishment and pleasure, our bodies remembering each other too well. i fucked her hard against the wall, her back hitting it with each deep drive, her moans a mix of pain and pleasure.
"shut up," she moaned, her voice a mix of defiance and ecstasy, her nails raking down my back, urging me on. i adjusted my angle, hitting that spot inside her that made her cry out, her legs tightening around me, her body trembling with the force of her pleasure.
i moved us to the small table in the room, laying her down, the surface cold under her bare skin, her legs spread for me. i watched her face as i thrust into her again, her eyes half-lidded, lips parted, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
i pulled her hips towards me, my movements becoming more erratic, more desperate, my thumb finding her clit, circling, pressing, driving her closer to the edge.
"you like this, don't you? being fucked like this, by someone you hate?" i taunted, my voice rough, my own climax building as i felt her tighten around me, her orgasm hitting her like a wave, her cries filling the room.
i didn't stop, the sight of her coming undone pushing me over the edge, my release following hers, my thrusts slowing as i filled her, our breaths mingling, the room silent except for our heavy breathing.
when it was over and the cold reality settled in, we didn't look at each other, the silence heavy with what we'd just done. i stepped back, zipping up, and she adjusted her clothes, our eyes avoiding each other's.
"this changes nothing," she said, her voice cold, the moment of vulnerability gone.
"never said it did," i replied, my tone matching hers, both of us knowing we'd just added another layer to our fucked-up history.
⨥⠀ ⠀⠀aegan is typing ᅟᅟ:ᅟ⠀heads up, copycats and wannabe adaptors: my work is mine, period. no copies, no mashups, and definitely no translations getting thrown up here or anywhere else without my say-so.
keep your hands off unless i give you the green light, got it?
tags: @courta13 @chrislilcumslvt @marrykisskilled @chrislova @sturnshood @inspiredangel @strnilolover @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @blushsturns
#﹙ㅤ✒️ㅤ﹚ㅤ﹔ㅤwritingsㅤ︐#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo au#matthew sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt stuniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo blurb#matthew sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo blurb#sturniolo#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo blurb
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Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader
Part 2 of Dynasty
Can a broken heart still beat?
Warnings: Character death, depression, drug use, suicide, reading of a suicide note, true love not letting death get in the way? Idk where this came from, no wait I do! blame @desimarie12
Mouse sat in the chair next to your bed, eyes never leaving your face. The solid sound of the machine helping your lungs push air through your body was the only sound in the room. Every moment that ticked by and you clung to life was a moment he managed to draw a breath. Twenty four hours, that was what the doctor told them. You were closing in on eighteen hours and still holding on.
The door cracked open and he didn’t have to look up to know it was Erin and Jay. They hadn’t left the hospital either but they’d stayed in the waiting room throughout the night until visiting hours rolled back into effect or well until Sergeant Benson called in a favor and suddenly it didn’t matter if the three of them were all in your room or not as long as they stayed out of the way. “She’s still holding on man” Jay spoke softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.
He nodded slowly “Holding on is a lot different than waking up Jay. She’s strong, she’s so damn strong but what if her body can’t handle this?” even simply giving voice to the thought was enough to force another round of tears from his eyes, they slid silently down his face. Erin stepped up next to him, slipping her hand down in his and squeezing it gently “If there’s any way for her to find her way back to you she will. She loves you so much”
He squeezed her hand back, wishing he could offer her some word of comfort. You would want him to, that was your best friend but any word fell flat on his lips. He didn’t blame her by no means, he would never do that simply because he knew you. If an innocent person was in danger around you, especially a kid? Nothing would’ve stopped you from saving them. Even at the expense of yourself. “This isn’t your fault Erin” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly and he could hear her inhale sharply before she said “I called her to this task force Mouse”
He cut his eyes up at her and saw tears sliding down her face “Don’t mourn her yet Erin, please. I can’t…I can’t handle that” she nodded, wiping at her eyes “I’m sorry” and turned to walk out. Jay looked back at him then at the door “I’ll go check on her. If you need anything man, just yell.I’ll be right outside”
Mouse listened to Jay leave and thought to himself, how would Jay ever give him what he needed? What he needed was for you to wake up. For those beautiful eyes to be looking back at him, that smile you had anytime you were hurt and trying to hide it plastered on your face and you joking about the fact that you wanted a vacation to New York City but maybe not like this. That was what he needed.
He leaned up to let his hand brush against yours, fingers curling around yours “Baby, I don’t know if you can hear me but I’m here. Jay’s here too and Erin. The moment Erin called me and Jay got on a plane. I haven’t left your side. I’m not leaving your side. You are everything to me, you hear me? Everything. So I really need you to wake up. Whatever you want is yours. Every argument the rest of our lives you’ve now won before they ever start. You want to steal my coffee every day? It’s yours. Hog the blankets? Please take em. Have the water so hot in the shower I swear it’s gonna scald us both? It’ll be fine, we know plenty of good doctors. I just need you to wake up..Please baby wake up” he could feel the tears flowing down his face but he didn’t care you were still holding on for something, he was praying for the first time in his life that the something was him.He was praying that you were fighting to come back to him. He couldn’t do this without you. He didn’t want to.
When the twenty four hour mark hit, doctors swarmed your room. It seemed like you shocked most of the hospital by making it that long. Mouse stood back with Erin and Jay watching as the doctors went over your injuries with each other, talking about running more tests and further treatments.
“What now?” Jay asked, breaking their conversation because so far he’d been the one out the three of them to talk to the medical team the most. He had no choice but to hold it together, for Mouse and Erin both. “Detective Halstead, we’re doing everything we can for her” the doctor assured them but about that time your hand twitched.
“She moved,” Mouse whispered and stepped forward. The doctors all turned towards you but to Mouse’s horror you started to seize, he could see red stains start to seep through the bandages covering your body and something started coming out of the tube down your throat “Get them out of here” the doctor told Jay nodded towards Mouse and Erin.
“Fuck you, I’m not leaving her” Mouse fought, struggling against Jay who was trying to grab his arm. He’d promised you he wouldn’t leave your side. “Officer Gerwitz you don’t want to see this” a nurse assured him, grabbing his other arm he turned to look at her and saw the tears in her eyes and this time when his legs went out from under him no one was there to catch him. His knees buckled and he hit the floor on them, watching as the doctors and nurses moved around your bed.
He was helpless to move, hell he couldn’t form a thought as he watched them shock your body, it jolting off the bed. “Greg, come on man. Don’t be in here for this” Jay tried, choking back a sob as his wide eyes landed on the bed as well. “I’m not leaving her” he whispered, even as the movements of the medical team ceased and they called the words that stopped his own heart beating in his chest “Time of death one eleven p.m.”
Mouse sat on the front pew of the church in his dress uniform, staring at your casket that was covered in the CPD flag. The unit was sitting around him, Erin was on his left side and Jay was on his right. He could’ve cared less. He was alone. You were gone.
He gripped his dogtags in his hand, the ring he’d never given you now rested on the chain. He had planned to slip it on your finger the moment you got home from New York. He’d never dreamt you getting home would’ve been in a body bag. The little girl you’d saved, Clarissa. She’d gotten her parents to fly her out for the funeral. She’d spoken with his blessing.
She’d hugged him and told him she was so sorry you were gone. He’d tried to act like anything she said mattered, Erin had given him a small nod so maybe it had seemed like it did to him. He was glad the little girl was safe, that much was true. These niceties, the apologies they wouldn’t bring you back. They wouldn’t fix the gaping hole in his chest. They wouldn’t give him a reason to get up every day.
Hank stood at the front of the church and nodded to the unit. They would carry you out to the hearse then carry you to your grave. The last time Mouse would have you in his arms in any way would be helping to carry you to your grave. They’d wanted him to not help but what kind of man would he be if he couldn’t carry the woman he loved to the end?
He stood with his team, positioning his cover on his head, tears streaming down his face as they all took their positions on your casket. Him and Erin were in front. They lifted you up and walked as one out of the church. Nothing had ever felt heavier than the weight of that casket, knowing it carried you inside.
_________________
At the cemetery they spoke of you. How you lived, how you loved. How you died being a hero. Mouse stood to the side, blue eyes glued to the light grey casket. One by one those of your unit were allowed to place a photo or something inside. Erin placed a photo of you, her and Nadia. Jay put his lucky keychain, Adam put a coin Makayla had asked him to give you, Kim had a stuffed animal from their niece. Kevin had three red roses. One from him, one from his brother and one from his sister.
When Hank looked over at him he walked over to the casket, footsteps slowing when he got near it. The dress Erin and your aunt picked looked exactly like something you’d wear and the funeral home had done a good job. You almost looked like you were asleep. Almost. He laid the dogtags across your chest “I’m sorry you never got this ring. I’m sorry I never made you my wife. I love you and always will” he whispered then slowly closed the casket, staring at your face until the last moment possible.
Mouse sat on the bed, photos of you scattered around him. Your smiling face looking back at him from every one. Your pillow still vaguely smelled of your shampoo, your coffee mug was still in the strainer, the last load of laundry you’d asked him to get out of the dryer and he’d forgotten still sat in the machine. The candle you loved sat half burnt next to the bed, the movie you and him planned to finish when you got home was still saved on the dvr.
He tried. He tried for weeks, he tried. The pain was ripping him apart more and more every day. He found a new dealer, it was fairly easy. He was high more days than sober now. The very thing you’d always feared, he’d gone back to his old ways but who was there to care? He’d lost the only reason he had for breathing, the very air in his lungs. He clicked his laptop, watching the video of you and him Jay had taken at the halloween party a few months before. You were laughing, arms around his waist and looking at him like he was the most important thing “Forever and a day Gerwitz?” just hearing your voice over the video made tears hit his eyes as he heard his own voice reply “Forever and a day love”
He stared at the bottle in his hand. It was enough, he’d made sure of it. He couldn’t do this anymore. He had to be with you. The pain was too much. He’d considered just using his gun but he knew Jay would find him and he couldn’t do that to him. This way he’d just go to sleep and wouldn’t wake up. A lot less for Jay to find.
He sat the envelope with Jay’s name on the laptop and opened the bottle along with the bourbon. He’d see you again and the pain would stop. That was all that mattered.
Jay walked slowly into the apartment, calling Mouse’s name out. He knew something was wrong but he hadn’t expected what awaited him either.
______________________
Jay and Erin sat together between yours and Mouse’s graves. Hank had pulled some strings, his death had been ruled a heart attack so he’d gotten a proper CPD burial and they’d made sure it was right next to you where he belonged. Hank had even footed the bill for your headstones to read “Loving Husband” and “Loving Wife” ; it was only suitable. Not even death stopped the love you two had for each other.
“Have you read his letter yet?” she asked and he shook his head and fished it out then held it out to her “Here, you do it” she took it then cleared her throat:
Jay, I’m sorry that I know you’ll be the one to find me. I wished there was someone else but we both know with her gone there isn’t. I’ve tried man, I really have. I can’t continue to live in a world she’s not in. She was always the air in my lungs and every day without her I suffocate more and more.When I met her I found my reason to keep going and the day I lost her I lost that reason. If there’s a life after this I will find her in it and love her it it, if there isn’t at least the pain will stop. Please don’t hold onto guilt over me and don’t let Erin hold onto guilt over her. We both knew our best friends loved us. Be happy man, if you find love don’t wait for anything. See you in the next life brother, Mouse
They were both crying by the time Erin was through reading. Jay slipped an arm around her and pulled her over onto his shoulder “I just hope they’re together” she whispered. “Me too” he replied, the wind catching their words as it blew past your graves maybe carrying that message on.
One moment Mouse was swallowing a handful of pills and not fighting against the urge to close his eyes, the next he was laying on a patch of grass. Grass? How did he get outside? “Wake up Greg” he heard your voice and felt your hand on his face and for a moment thought he was hallucinating, the pills hadn’t worked. They’d just caused this.
He felt the air move around him then your other hand went to the opposite side of his face and he heard your light laughter “I swear if you don’t open those gorgeous blue eyes Gerwitz” he slowly opened his eyes and you were kneeled in front of him, real as day. Your hair was in a braid like you always wore it during summer, you were wearing a light blue shirt with cut off shorts and sneakers. You looked happy and healthy.
“Sweetheart? Is that really you?” you nodded, tears shining in your eyes “It’s really me Greg” he pulled you into his arms and you laughed, letting him wrap both arms around you. “How? Baby, where are we? What happened?” when he rolled so he was holding his weight on his arms and you were under him in the grass you smiled sadly up at him, running your fingers up into his hair and he closed his eyes, feeling tears threaten at feeling your touch “Why are you here so soon? You had so much life left” you whispered and he opened his eyes, looking down at you.
His girl. Whole and here with him. Wherever here was, it didn’t matter. He had you in his arms. “No I didn’t love. My life ended the day you left” you smiled “I love you Greg” then pulled him down to you. The moment your lips met his both of you let tears slip free. When you pulled away from his lips he leaned his forehead against yours “I love you so much” you grinned “Forever and a day Gerwitz?” he nodded “Forever and a day baby”
#greg mouse gerwitz x reader#greg gerwitz angst#greg gerwitz x reader#greg gerwitz drabble#mouse gerwitz x reader#chicago pd fanfiction#chicago pd fic#chicago pd fanfic#greggerwitz x reader
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TALKIN' BOOODY!
Synopsis. The one thing he won’t survive? Your ovuIation.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, MARATHONS, cervíx kíssing, dúmbification, PÚSSYDRÚNK MEN, bréeding, creampíes, true form Sukuna, dp, talking you through it, jeaIous s (Sukuna), cúmplay, cúmming dry, use of powers, spítting, chokíng, matíng presses, p talking, p sIapping, reader ovuIates, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Love Machine.
Toji Fushiguro never thought he’d meet his match - he never thought he’d end up like this.
Toned chest panting - heaving - in pathetic huffs and puffs, muscular thighs quivering with every second he folded you like a lawnchair into such a mean standing nelson. It’s all he can do to snarl out mere husked gurgles, “O-ovulation? Hah- five rounds n’ you still think she’s a match against me, doll?”
Lies. And both of you knew it.
The man himself can only watch through hooded eyes when you’re squirming your greedy hips back and forth for more more more- “But Toooji– when m’ovulating I really want a hah...a baby.”
Oh.
Oh.
And Toji doesn’t know whether it’s your words or the mere sultry sound of your voice that makes his tall, powerful body shiver.
“So what?” He’s spitting through clenched teeth, you yelp when Toji wastes no time jostling you into such a pliable position against his glissading abs. Big, beefy biceps flexing when he smears your thighs widely agape, “Then m’just gonna give ya a baby, ma.”
But fuck, is Toji cursing back his words the very moment his geysering divot slides past your spongy cervix and probes a deep indent right against the door to your womb.
Because you feel so unfairly good - so scorching hot n’ melty all around him - that he can’t help but furrow his sweat-slicked brows and pump his hips vulgarly sloppier into yours. Faster. Harder.
He oh-so-badly wants to cum. Needs to prove it.
But the way his feverish skin breaks out in another sweaty varnish, the way his overused cock twinges with overstimulation leave him wondering if he still can. Parting his mazing length past all the ribbony excess of seed from earlier tonight to milk himself fucking dry if he has to.
“Gonna b-be eating your words.” He’s seething cockily, heftily bloated tip blushing the exact same strawberry-pink shade as his pretty flush right now. “Swear m’gonna make ya- oh god.”
And whatever sentence rambling pussydrunkenly off of Toji’s filthy tongue never sees the light of day - because what he sees makes his throat tighten.
Dipping down one fat thumb of his to circle the cream-topped peak of your sensitive clit, Toji pries apart your adhesive-like walls until he can take a long, hard look at the way your slippery entrance was swallowing every solid inch of him.
“Look at you.” He’s murmuring out, and your heart stutters at the primal adoration that laces his words. Round, padded fingertips pap! pap! papping! the edge of your throbbing clit until steady globs of cum from just before slip out of your needy entrance. “Got s-so much you’re overspilling n’ you still want more.”
You’re craning your head to look up at him, lashes fluttering following each of his vicious rams. “Can’t help it- I just feel so…”
You don’t have to talk - because your slobbering cunt does all of it for you.
A resounding squelch! ringing into your ears and all across Toji’s cottony mind in an utterly sensual manner.
“Damn, girl-” you hear from above you. And he wastes no time slathering those bulky digits in a saccharine coating of all your sap, “-n’ I thought hngh- you were needy. Turns out this cute cunt is a fuckin’ diiirty girl.”
But, of course, who was Toji Fushiguro to not give you anything and everything you wanted? You were his girl, after all - and your eyes widen when those very same drippingly wet fingers are pushed between your sodden folds with a waterlogged fwop!
“S’this ‘nough for my ovulating girl?” Toji’s rolling his willowy eyes, hasty streaks of sweat running down the side of his face. “Speak up- ”
“Yes- fuck!” You’re clawing your nails down his firm forearms to rake red, red lines that match his puffed-up veins. Thumping hotly against your skin to the same ba-dump–! as the ones on his girthy shaft, grazing your clingy walls and molding them out generously to his size. “Need you to cum in m-me Toji– need it-”
Fuck- Toji’s knees weaken precariously at your words. Hollowed breaths coming out infinitely more strained, “Where- where do you want me?”
He thinks he’s going fucking insane.
But of course, you’re showing it all off for him. Of course, you’re letting your index drag from the middle of your tummy to secure right where he was rummaging every nook and cranny of your insides. Just millimeters away from where the rotund bulge of his crownhead was pressing innocent pecks on your womb-
“Here.”
And when Toji cums he’s losing all strength - he’s out of control. “Fine- fine. But you’re takin’ every l-last drop- fuck! Everythin’ because you b-better make me a hngh- daddy all over again, doll.”
Not even every ounce of superhuman strength from his heavenly restriction could keep him standing upright. Hunching over into your body, you feel like you’re being crushed- you are.
Gasping at the faint pop! of your poor joints once Toji’s letting himself droop languidly down onto his knees on the hardwood floor. Close.
He’s burning so hot, and you eagerly inhale his sweet, cinnamony cologne. Laddered bumps of his abs meshing and melding into your back, his tightly clamped chin rests on the crook of your neck.
“Mercy-” He’s muttering through clouded pants against your ear, vision flashing white behind his heavy lids. And the moment your gluey walls grip onto around his sensitive slit he thinks he sees heaven. Toji doesn’t think he’s had an orgasm like this in his entire life. “Mercy.”
You’re tangling up a few fingers to scrape along his scalp, parting Toji’s glossy black bangs - and you swear you hear his throat curdle, frantically biting down a hoarse whimper.
Bulbous head bludgeoning into your forbidden spots and twitching up angrily, every sopping smack against your deepest depths only leave your mouth watering.
You grind your hips down with a mewl, thighs aching to meet his strained cadence and draw out those tiny, sweltering hot spatters of milky cum. More. Where-
But Toji’s eyes snap open- fuck! All it takes is one strong arm to hold your entire weight up easily when he darts down an urgent hand to curl dexterously around his hefty girth. Squeezing, tugging- “Fucking- cumming dry? Fuck-”
It can’t be.
Shit, it can’t be.
But a lazy few grazes of his sensitive cock inside your raw cunt helps him find…nothing. Not even a few wiry wisps of splattered seed. Furiously working his fingers up n’ down up n’ down your teary slit, trying to feel for another fresh lather of cum. For that familiar sloshing mess of buttery white- because Toji has never cum dry. Never.
He’s swatting your puffed-up clit as if it was your fault all he could muster up was a singular dabbing bead of ivory.
And as Toji watches that surprised glint in your eyes transform into something darker, something…filthier, he knows he can do nothing else but gulp. Chubby balls perking up with a mocking little twitch-
“M’not making it out a-alive, huh?”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Ge-ge-genius
“And according to the agenda, we’ll be discuss- fuck-”
It didn’t matter if Nanami was working. It didn’t matter if he had some stupid meeting for tomorrow.
No- right now the only thing that mattered was that, according to his tracker, his lovely wife was ovulating - and of course, Nanami had to be there as a good husband to…help.
“-discussing the- oh- my love.” You’re sure that you knock over much more than a few important papers when you’re eagerly straddling him at his cool office chair. Looking up at you through blond, curtained lashes, “Still needy, huh?”
The only answer he gets are your greedy hands rovering all over his unbuttoned front. Perking a thumb over one of his bubblegum pink nipples, squeezing ravenously at his toned abs. All the way down until you’re hooking a finger underneath the shirt garter around his muscular thigh to snap!
“Fuck- m’here- m’here, I promise.” He’s massaging all down your perfectly arched spine, planting a slow, lecherous drag of his leaky divot across your spongy cervix. Drawing a goopy line that makes you squirm, “You want some of this, don’t you?”
Nodding and nodding, “Yeah- s-sorry I just need it so hngh- bad right now, Kento.”
“Nothing to apologize for, darling. M’glad to know my girl is ovulating n’ healthy.” Nanami leans back, and you can practically feel the sleazy up and down of his seductive eyes. He’s tilting his head ever-so-slightly, “Why don’tcha use my fucking cock like a good little wife then, hm? Let Kento here get some work done while you haaah- take care of that pretty pussy like a big girl- s’that alright?”
Fuck- you’d take anything you could get at this point. You just needed him.
And Nanami wasn’t serious about looking over some useless documents while you shuffled your hips to milk his every inch. Truly, you were his first priority after all.
But when you gave into his little teases oh-so-easily and looked at him like that- well, how could a man say no?
It’s like you were trying to get him pussydrunk, your sappy folds extra sticky against his toned front. Letting out the cutest of whimpers every time the fleshy mounds of your ass hit his belt buckle with a loud plap!
Fuck.
Fuck, why did he say that he had work to get done in the first place?
Because now Nanami’s left clutching a crinkled document in one hand, the other soothing down your back as you crane yourself over and give his bumpy Adam’s apple a thorough suck.
“R-right- the proposal of this project has been m-moved-” He was rereading the same sentence over and over and over. Watching your gyrating motions, alternating between vulgarly deep strokes inside and swivelling grinds to scratch your plump clit against his neat tufts of tawny blond. “...has been moved a-according to the ngh-”
“It- it feels so goood-” Your breath hitches with every cry, every thick drag of his pre-topped mushroom tip plundering your sweetest orifices. Nanami didn’t even have to try with that right-leaning curve of his, every battering bounce had you seeing stars. “-you f-feel so hngh- good, Ken. Wan’ you inside forever.”
Eyes widening a mere sultry fraction, his voice is so breathy. “Fuck.”
“Focus on your work. You’re smart, baby–” You knew what you were doing - you were always such a minx during ovulation.
“Mhm, not like I’ve got a hngh- distraction.” A very welcome distraction that was currently toying with his haphazard tie, tugging and pulling until Nanami felt lightheaded with just how close he was to you. “A real pretty…” Curving up a thumb to swab up your sappy streaks of slick, it makes your pussy let out the nastiest squelch! “-real loud distraction.”
But, of course, that wasn’t going to stop you.
No. In fact, it’s as if your cadence gets even impossibly sloppier - a hard, fast papping of your hips that makes Nanami’s brows furrow.
“-and the client has r-requested that-” He’s hissing, a snarling smile ever-growing on his hips when your gluey walls cling onto him even tighter the moment he manages to get enough coherent syllables out. “-that we halt-”
A pen that’d been clutched in his hand - when had he even picked that up? - clatters onto the floor when you rake your hands to brush his aching, plump balls. But he barely even hears the commotion over those ringing slurps slurred out of your sloppy cunt.
“F-feeling handsy today, aren’t we?” He was tutting such nonsense at this point, glassy eyes trailing away from that important document in his hands and instead watching the heavenly sight that was you.
You, with your mouth spilling with whines upon whines every time he’s jerking his hips up in a rough ram. Such voluminous piles of buttery pre swashing around your insides forcing Nanami’s words to end up nothing but a ball of lead in his throat.
You’re noting the way his recitation has quieted down, doughy pads of your fingers still massaging where he was most sensitive. Humming, “S’everything alright- hck! Kento?”
And before you can say a word - before you can even blink - those particular meeting notes of his are thrown about halfway across Nanami’s decadent office.
Hands flying to you - everywhere, anywhere. Wrenching off Nanami’s speckled tie to loop them around your wrists and behind your back - tying you. Trapping you as he finishes off a knot.
Such a crazed look smeared all over his face when he’s lacing his now-free hands on top of the sweat-dampened crown of your head and pushing.
Because you might have been driving him crazy with that depraved, rolling cadence of yours - but when Nanami fucked, he fucked mean. Holding down by your restrained arms to to warm his girthy cock, massaging his ridged veins along your resinous channel with a harsh thrust.
And yet it’s the perfect angle for a direct jackhammer into that magical area of your g-spot. He holds you captive until you’re being bruised with the perfect circular sphere of his inflated tip, until you can only throw your head back and cum.
You’re shuddering, “Cumming- ngh! M’cumming, Ken–” The sparks of white and red behind your shuttered lids are blissful, it’s like you’re crashing right into heaven.
“You got it, you got it-” Nanami’s bouncing his powerful knees to fuck you through your high, dragging his tight, cum-filled balls along the perk of your ass. He’s so large, letting you use him as you pleased. “Your Kento’s here, m’here so hah- gimme a kiss, please?”
Ever the gentleman.
It’s on autopilot when you do - you can’t even control the way your maw falls parted to make it such a slobbery mess. But your husband was far from complaining - “Good- good. Now spit in my mouth.”
“Fuck-” You’re whining, letting loose a viscous mess of spittle that targets Nanami’s pink tastebuds. Back arching when the very moment it meets his tongue makes his leaky divot burst with fat wads of cum. “-s-so full.”
That was an understatement - Nanami’s ribbony streams of seed were filling you up to the brim. He’s holding you still like his own personal toy, letting his staggering volume of cum stream from between your soppy pussylips to ruin his crisp office pants.
Such round globs of pearly white that only make his smile grow even more feral. Guiding you at a lazy pace up and down up and down his throbbing cock to milk out every ounce.
He lets off a low whistle, “M’missing work tomorrow, huh?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - FRENCH TIPS
“S-Sugu-”
“Settle down, gorgeous.” Geto’s voice is silken-smooth, tinged with something so sexily husky that makes your fatigued thighs clamp even tighter around his pretty wrist. Trembling as he talks you through yet another orgasm tonight, “If you wanna talk out of this cute cunt here then you better let her fucking talk.”
And the only thing meaner than his words was the way that his doughy fingertips were prying apart your folds, circling the very edge of your slick-flooded entrance oh-so-lazily. Teasing. “Isn’t that right, pretty girl?”
Fuck- and he knows expertly how to get your sloppy pussy talking just as much as he was right about now. Pulling slobbery slurp! after slurp! that rings across his ears and makes them burn bright red at the fleshy tips.
Cooing away, and if you tilted your head just right you could catch the way that his tender palm was just gleaming with a syrupy lather of your juices. “Mhmmm– You’re the special girl tonight, s’like you’re in fucking heat. ”
You whine, “No–”
And Geto loved that.
Loved how cute you were when he was mean. Loved splurging out his vicious digits from your hot core to drag his sloppy pink lips down till he was nudging against his mountainous knuckles.
Sucking every ounce and sappy wad coating his fingers while staring deeply into your eyes. “‘Course you are. S’like a damn waterpark f’me when yer ovulating. Almost makes me wanna finally give you my cock. Almost.”
Almost.
And right now your melty mind couldn’t even fathom the possibility of not having Geto’s achy cock inside you right now. You needed him.
Desperately, your hips perk upwards to bump the fleshy mounds of your ass against his swollen girth. Glissading your skin across his sweltering hot length, yearning to feel the bumpy nudge of his veins. His plump, rotund crown-
“Tch- being teased turns you right now, huh? Or s’this pussy just filthy?” He’s letting off a chuckle, one palm covering your maw to block your saccharine sweet noises - because just the mere sound of your voice was making him twitch.
He’s leaning in so dangerously close that you could practically read the filthy, filthy intentions in his hooded eyes. Drinking in the flowery whiff of his shampoo, “If you’re so impatient, maybe I shouldn’t give you my c-”
Geto doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Exactly as he’d expected.
Exactly as he’d wanted. Oh, he loved it when you’d push him down and take exactly what you wanted, no matter how much he denied.
In only mere split-seconds, you’re flipping your positions over to splay him out like such a slut on the cottony sheets. Ass hitting his sharp hip-bones with a resonating pap! when you easily and pliably sink his curved cockhead past your teary slit.
Inch by solid inch. Brows furrowing at the sheer stretch, tautly pulling your rubbery entrance to mold around his staggering girth-
“Yeahhhh, easy there. Take it hah- easy, gorgeous.” Geto’s batting is long, dark lashes up at you. And if you peered even closer you swear you could see his crinkled lids slip past a few stimulated tears. “S’a biiig stretch, isn’t it? N’ you don’t wanna hngh- hurt yourself.”
But you weren’t listening - you couldn’t.
You squeeze his tender throat tighter and Geto thinks he could cum.
The only thought running through your fuzzy head being to stutter out such thorough bounces, swallowing his rugged length from the curve of Geto’s inflated, ruby red tip, all the way until your plumped clit was rubbing back and forth against his dark happy trail.
“Fuck- hngh!” You’re moaning when his pulsing veins slip and slide in lightning bolted patterns all across your geysering sweet spots. “Feels so good- need more, Suguru.”
“Then fucking- take- it.” He spits, such a snarling grin smearing all across Geto’s face just in time with the pussydrunken splatters of drool leaking from one corner of his mouth. “Arch that back and take it.” Milking him until he’s lurching onto his elbows, “You’re the one ovulating, girl- use me.”
But you could feel your poor, overworked legs shaking, a pout cutely coating your words. “But-”
“Nuh uh, no complainin’-” You can’t help but flinch when his cushiony fingerpads reach over to give your bulging pussylips a good smack. Tugging right on the fleshy hood of your clit, “Take a few more inches n’ tell me who’s the one hngh- that was talking out of her cunt today, hm?”
“Sugu-” Swat! And apparently another soaking spank is all it takes for you to actually listen. Drooping your hips down further and further, bustling his bloated cock bottomlessly before the answering syllables tumble from your lips. “-fuck! Me- was me.”
“That’s right, good girl.” The thick fat of his thumb massages your treacly slit back and forth, forcing your hips to move in circling little gyrations that drive you wild. “Fuck, keep that rhythm. And who begged me to fuck this p-pretty pussy because it was that time of the month. Again and again and again?”
“Me.”
“Exactly.” He sounds so uncharacteristically smug. Dangerous. Such sexy veins puffing up Geto’s milky neck once he’s planting two feet firmly flat onto the cushy ground and pushing. Abs flexing with every swab of his weepy tip down your deepest depths over and over. “So if yer gonna ride me. Ride me right.”
Geto’s so feral pumping your cervix with branded bruises of his circumference, stuffing you so snugly full that your slick was flooding his bulky base in waves. “Bend your knees s’more- yeah. Yeah, move that hah- damn hand.”
Rudely sifting away your shy hands to cup his handsome face, he’s tilting his head right into your touch. You can feel your heart race when Geto nips your cozy palm, “Hold back my ah- hair, gorgeous. Can’t see her.”
Her being the way your glistening folds flutter when you push his silky locks into a haphazard ponytail and pull. Streaking a warm trail of sweetened juices down his abs when Geto bucks his slender hips to reach for-
“Ah! Fuck-” Your hazy eyes bulge out at the sudden crack of raw bliss, before scrunching pathetically shut once more when Geto’s split, plummy head crashes against the bullseye of your g-spot and drills down into it. “Sugu- I think I’m-”
And he knew it before you did. Could already feel the extra clingy smush of your walls, could see the way you’re letting your head tumble emptily backwards and cumming.
How cute.
Geto flies up one ravenous set of fingers to your heatedly pulsing clit and swats, one after the other. Two. Three. Counting them with each peak of pleasure he fucks you mercilessly through.
Still letting his ears burn with the waterlogged thwack! thwack! thwack! of the spanks, you swear you could hear his breath hitch in awe. “We gotta train your riding, gorgeous. Luckily for you…we have allll night.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - “M-more…?”
The moment those words are murking out in a puffed-out cloud from Choso’s lips, he thinks he could faint. He thinks he could feel his ears pop when you’re breaking apart from his plump, cerise tip with a wet plap!
“Mhm–” you’re nodding, treacly ribbons of spit and buttery cum still dangling from your lips and the leaky divot right on top of his swollen cock. “Sorry, Cho- this ovulation still has me so…horny.”
You’d just finished making him cum with that pretty mouth of yours, twice with your hands, and once merely from the sound of your sultry voice. And at the way your lips curve into the perfectly stained pout, Choso finds his loose maw dropping.
“No!” He’s hissing out, sounding as pathetically needy as he feels. A viscous puddle of saliva formulates at the back of his tongue and threatens to trickle from right between his kiss-bitten lips, “No no no don’t apologize, I- I mean.”
And fuck- even after so long with you, Choso still feels so fucking shy. Just the memory from today of you confessing that your ovulation was here and that you wanted him to…help make his high cheekbones scorch over with a cute red blush.
Lower lip wobbly precariously as he’s tugging at your sweat-simmered body to pull you from your knees, supporting your entire weight when you scramble onto unsteady legs.
You’re raising a brow, “Cho? Do you want-”
Only to be cut off when Choso manhandles you around and all but slams you against the cool wall of your headily humid bedroom. One slender hand curled at your throat, softening the blow, the other pawing greedily at the fat of your ass.
He’s pulling and prying to take a long look at the way your gluey lips were being oh-so-easily stretched by his aching shaft.
Oh, you were so hot around him, it’s as if you were melting. Lacquering down a syrupy glaze of slick with every throbbing inch being fed inside-
“Don’t- don’t even know if I can cum anymore-” He’s breathing out in a heated whisper against your ear. Ragged and crazed enough that it makes your spine prickle with tiny goosebumps. “Don’t know if- fuck.”
But of course, he’s spying down at that lecherous sight. Words petering out when he cranes his drunken head downwards to leave an open-mouthed trailway of snogs down your back. Murmuring into your skin, “Don’t know if I can- hngh- even c-cum anymore. But for you–” Finishing off his trek at the finish line of your lips, “-anything for you, baby.”
Such a filthy, filthy French kiss.
He could taste the saliva sugarcoating your mouth, feel the weight of those globules of his cum swirling into his own mouth. So sinful that it made him whine-
“B-baby, are you sure?” You’re managing, mouth faltering into an oh! as he starts up a fast, urgent rut of his hips. But Choso wasn’t ready to let you free that easily - no, no, no. He’s chasing after your lips as if he was addicted, suckling on your battered lower lip, “If you can’t…”
“I can.” He’s gruffing out, and he’ll apologize for cutting you off later. Right now, the only thing that Choso can do is roughly latch onto your hips and give you steady pound after pound. Countless. “I will- promise. All the way ‘ntil your ngh- ovulation finishes if I hafta, baby–”
Well and fully intent on keeping his promise.
His milky hips smack and strike eagerly against your own until the mounds of muscle underneath Choso’s soaked happy trail was all a stinging red. So much so that you see stars.
And shit- then you’re gazing at him over your shoulder and he thinks he could reach his high just from seeing your pretty face. “M’gonna milk you till you’re heh- dry, baby.”
Choso didn’t care that the tender curve of his fattened balls ached with overuse, didn’t care that those words and a simply snug cling of your dewy walls around him would be enough to make his strawberry orifice leak with copious volumes of cum.
Swamping your spongy cervix, he’s making such an utter mess by slamming! one palm down onto the wall fitting snugly inside you until he was thoroughly bottomed out.
You’re gasping when you feel the warm plap! plap! plap! of something hitting the curvaceous edge of your shoulder. Only to tilt your head upwards and find your dear boyfriend crying.
Such pearly tears beading out from the edge of his chestnut eyes, and Choso’s clammy flush only grows ever-darker at the intensity of your stare. Fat, cylindrical shaft twitching upwards and hitting your sweetest spots with a dull thud! you shiver when he spurts out exactly three rivulets of sappy seed.
Only three.
“O-oh god–” He sucks in a deeply shuddering inhale, watery eyes fluttering as his hefty breeder balls squeeze and make him cum dry. “-s’this okay? S’this- ngh- enough? M’sorry I-”
“Awww, don’t apologize, Cho.” you’re humming, heat coiling at your tummy with just how bloated and full you felt right about now. Choso was always more than generous with the heaping torrentials of seed, swabbing a few delicate speckles with every thrust of his. “You did great- ngh- did so well.”
“Really?” He’s tightening his fingers around your throat to shut you up, to choke you lightheaded - because oh. There was his second weakest point - your praise. Only second to simply you in general. “Really? Y-you shouldn’t say that, baby- s’gonna ngh- make me…”
He doesn’t have to say a word.
He can’t.
Not when Choso was leaning back to eye your geysering hole, gulping at the sweltering hot beads of cum that trickle from between your pretty lips. Wispy little goblets that he can’t help but thumb over with a huff.
“U-uh, baby.” Shit, there was something dark in that tone of his. Something…greedy. From the corner of your eye, you’re catching the pinkish flash of Choso’s tongue glide slooowly along his kiss-bitten lips while he still stares down lovingly at your pussy. After all- didn’t you say you’d milk him dry? He wasn’t quite dry just yet, no matter what the sensitive sting of his balls said. “On second thought- don’t you…don’t you want more?”
And he swears that only makes you wetter, you’re leaning upwards to kiss away one salty tear of his, “Thought you’d never ask.”
Oh.
Choso’s going to marry you.
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Dickmatize
“Kuna- Kuna—” You were babbling away stupidly after only a few bruising strikes of Sukuna’s restless hips, halfway through crashing into the royal headboard if it wasn’t for one of his clawed hands latching firmly onto the crown of your scalp.
“K-K-Kuna-” He’s mocking with a roll of his eyes, perking up two of his enguling hands to angle your hips even deeper. And the grin he’s plastering all over his handsome features is so sleazy, “S’there anything else ya can say, woman?”
Your lips wobble with a few strained whines, “Harder.”
“Harder? Keh- harder?” Sukuna spits out, letting your woozy lips drag across his in a lazy slip n’ slide - just about all that you could manage with how spellbound you were right now. “‘Course ya want fucking harder when you can’t even ah- handle- this-”
But it’s not as if Sukuna was doing any better.
Fuck was he glad that your dewy gaze was way too cross-eyed with every one of his vulgar strikes.
Because Sukuna’s monstrously towering body was shivering, hooded eyes growing heavier every time the spherical ends of both cockheads skated into your snug channel.
You were taking him so well, and that was making his cursed second mouth salivate.
And when he tilted his head mere inches his closer and sucked in a deep whiff-
“Shiiiit- I can even hah- smell the ovulation on ya, woman.” And Sukuna didn’t mind it one bit, in fact, he was taking in such heaving lungfuls of that specially candied air. Elongated canines gleaming in the dim lighting, “And it’s fucking delicious.”
He could always smell those special few days of the month when you got just a bit sweeter, even more gorgeous than usual, just a bit…needier.
The problem was that everyone else seemed to notice too.
And he had half the mind to think that your ovulation was affecting him, as well. Because Sukuna felt feverish, head falling backwards when his proud lengths pry apart your gluey walls as if he was opening up his very own gift.
He just felt so dumb on your pretty pussy.
Your saturated folds lacquer with a freshly new wave of slick once Sukuna lets his maw fall slack with a growl. Sharp teeth nipping right down your throbbing pulse, easy to sink in. To mark.
“P-Please–” You’re squealing when he’s letting off numerous thwacks! of his curvaceous balls against the weepy end of your slit, hard enough that it almost bruises. “Need you r-right here.”
And shit- Ryomen Sukuna may be the notorious king of curses, but he was nothing against you. Nothing against just how evil you were with your pretty hands trembling up the cylindrical bulge he was pounding into you.
“Want me to fill up th-this pretty pussy till everyone can see, huh?” Sukuna’s rumbling out, so close now that you could feel the rasping vibrato of his bulging pecs glissading down your front. “Till even that new fuck- coworker of yours realizes?”
His husky words out of place enough to make your droopy lids blink repeatedly, “Wha- who?”
That bastard giving you fucking goo-goo eyes and clinging onto you, that’s what. But Sukuna can’t utter that - he can’t even bring himself to do anything other than grit his sharp jaw, “Talkin’ about another man while m’all inside you, huh?”
Ah, the way your mouth falls into a shocked oh! is just adorable.
Cockdrunken tongue struggling to get the coherent syllables out to defend yourself against his little tease. And if you were in any better state of mind you’d have sworn that only made him harder.
Stacked lengths barrelling into you once. Twice. And yet, pulling out on the third - watching your brows furrow when he takes his leisurely time fighting back the clingy embrace of your glutinous walls as he pulls out inch by fucking inch.
“Maybe you should have him fuck you insead.” Sukuna arches a regal brow, curling a stray hand around his bulky bases to leave a syrupy swot! right on your glossed folds. But, of course, with him it was always double the spank making your toes curl. Heavy. And hot.
It makes your head spin, full of cottony thoughts of just him. “D-don’ want anyone else- ngh- Kuna- Just need you in me right now.”
“S’that sooo?” He’s drawling out, two palms smearing your jittery legs and spreading them widely agape. All the way until your inner thighs burned with both the stretch and the spurting streaks of pre he left. “Don’t know if I believe this slutty pussy, brat. Maybe s’jus’ the ovulation talkin’.”
He was being so mean.
But what was even meaner was the way Sukuna’s roguish second tongue lolls out to splat! right down on your treacly cunt. So, so comparably large - he was easily drawing wet little patterns all over your gooey core.
Over n’ over.
“M’not- s’not–” You’re choking out, mouth needily parched. Rovering your hands dexterously over to cup his aching cocks - but you could barely even squeeze your digits into a close around them both. “S’not just the ovulation, Kuna-”
“Then say it.” He snickers, having way too much fun with just how needy you are. “Spell it out f’me.”
Hips bucking impatiently, “S-spell what-” But that’s when you realize- oh, that’s when you’re registering that those lewd little patterns being made out onto your pussy weren’t just patterns.
No, you’re wrenching your eyes open just a bit wider to take in the sappy trail of sweet, sweet juices glazing Sukuna’s wet muscle. Lugging ounces of it allll over his tongue as he makes such a mess of you down below.
With the help of two fat digits smushing your cheeks together he’s prying your head to look right down. Just at the right angle to watch the dizzying motions of his tongue spelling out-
“A? Wait no-” Gasping as he plants another papping spank on your puffed-up folds, “-R? A-and is that- Y?”
You already knew what the next shape was going to be - you didn’t even have to watch the very edge of his roughened tastebuds draw a slow, circular kiss.
Way off in the fuzzy distance you think you can hear Sukuna chuckle, cooing at your cute mewls. “O-o? Does it spell out- haaah- Ryo?”
Yeah, he was in love.
“Damn right.” Sukuna bites back a moan, when he sinks back in mercilessly. Feeding your starving cunt with a few scorching inches of both swollen cocks - and then all at once. “You’re mine, lil’ human.” And one slam turns into two. Four. Eight- until Sukuna was fucking you like he couldn’t stop.
You were mumbling out stupidly, floods of murky saliva spilling in heaps from your mouth. “All yours?”
He’s spitting twice - once from each mouth. Wadding one mess past your ajar lips, and then another to slip down the hill of your clit.
“All mine.” He grins, oversized tongue slithering past your syruped folds to poke its way into your already-overstuffed hole. Taking in a deeeep breath of your honeyed pheromones, “And m’gonna fuck ya till that pretty lil’ head remembers.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - F.E.V.E.R.
Oh- Gojo’s head nuzzles dopily into the treasured crook of your neck, lips parted to heave out a scorching little pant of sweetheart—!
And at this point his sing-songy baritone is broken several octaves higher, held together at the seams with only a drunkenly crooked grin that you know doesn’t bode well for you.
Because once again you’re left wondering whether it’s really you that’s ovulating or your dear, feverishly deprived husband right here.
Fingers twitching on the splintered mahogany headboard above, he jostles his hips to give your bruised and battered cervix a stinging little swab. Strawberry divot so red and angry, that just the slightest push leaves him slathering your insides with creamy pre in long, lazy ribbons.
Just to remind you how achingly hard he still was.
Even after hours and hours of you milking him dry, he was vibrating with the powerful buzz of reverse cursed energy that kept him oh-so-swollen.
“S-s’that ‘enough?” Gojo trembles out, shudders wracking down his spine. And you can’t help but ogle that unintentionally sexy flex of his washboard abs massaging onto your front. The way you could count each n’ every tight ridge. “S’that all my- hck! ovulatin’ girl can handle?”
Your chest lugs in desperate pants of air at the way each throbbing inch of his probes into your steaming orifices one by one. Languidly, as if Gojo had all the time in the world. “Y-yes…”
And oh, you really didn’t expect the strongest to fall for that one- did you?
All it takes is a few sloppy seconds for him to reel his head back and giggle, wild. Sapphire eyes gazing down at the inflationary little bulge he was fucking into you.
Practically purring, practically heart-eyed. “Really? Well, that’s reeeeal interestin’, sweetheart, because-” Gojo’s dipping the thick, rounded pads of his digits to splay out over your tummy. Hard. And you swear you glimpse the way his half-lidded eyes crinkle with electric bolts of cursed energy, “-I can see that this pretty pussy is still in need of a hah- gooood fucking.”
You squeal when those very same fingers take a much filthier approach, tracing cute little patterns down, down, down to the sensitive nub of your clit. Before twirling over your plump hood and pinching. Making your leaky hole lacquer itself even wetter, “You’re still ovulating, needy girl.”
“Th-then—” you hiss back, the sole sound of your voice making his fat, ruddied tip twitch. He was so sensitive, so…filthy.
Feeling the soft curve of his free hand latch onto your waist, pinning down your squirming hips until you couldn’t jostle them even a singular inch more. To feel him more, ever-messing up your insides. “-then stop teasing me and-”
Ah, this was his favorite part.
Right when you had your brows furrowed needily that way, right when your lolling mouth was half-opened into the shape of a few snappy insults-
That’s the exact split-second he’s arching his prespired back into the perfect curve, hitting the spongy target of your g-spot dead on.
“Still want more- h-heh–” Pearly white canines snarl back at the slippery slide of his dumbfoundingly long girth down your sweetest spots, rounded globes of his cum-filled sack swatting against the ends of your soppy slit with a resounding thwack! He lets off such a whine, “My girl wants- no, is begging for…more.”
Fuck, he sounded so ruined. Voice as brittle as you felt.
You watch as his prominent Adam’s apple bobs with a husky ah! ah! ah! after every bounce back from the heated depths of your pretty pussy - he couldn’t bear to part even for those repeated split-seconds. Ruby red cockhead leaving stringy little wetspots that have you seeing stars.
“Yes-” you’re gurgling out, and Gojo’s only snapping his hips with vulgar strokes even faster to dredge out those pretty noises from you. “Yes yes- yes! Need it even harder, Satoru.”
Somewhere off in the distance you’re hearing a sharp crack! and only hours and hours later do you realize that it’s your poor bedframe.
In the back of Gojo’s mind he couldn’t help but think that you’d be next.
“Harder- wait- harder? Ohhh, fuck- she wants more-” He’s seething out, planting a tempo of pounds after pounds that make sparks of heat sprint down your spine. It felt like you were being split into two - it felt like he was mazing apart your adhesive walls with such expertise that he must’ve been unfairly using his Six Eyes. “D’you realize that when you ask th-the strongest for hah- more, I might just break ya, sweetheart?”
Your dewy pussy folds twitch at those very words, enough to get him melting over into you. Hunching his sculptured body heatedly against yours, it has him considering proposing right then and there- “Wan’ you to, Toru–”
Fuck “considering.”
Gojo’s feeling his maw flood with a syrupy wave of saliva, spilling out in trickling rivers on either side of his coral pink lips when he’s choking out, “Marry me- marry me.”
His reverse cursed technique wasn’t even workin anymore - power rolling off of him in pressurized waves. He couldn’t control it.
Feeling his eyes go crazily wide, he could already feel them watering when Six Eyes kick into overdrive but still doesn’t look away from where your needy entrance was sucking his every fat inch. He wouldn’t. He can’t.
Entranced.
Can’t do anything else, didn’t even register the wadded mess of sweltering cum coating your insides in a sloppy second skin.
You’re squealing as more and more strikes planted onto your drooling cunt leave you rendered stupid. Gojo’s eager fingertips keeping your saturated lips held captive with an ever-tightening squeeze.
Your thighs jitter helplessly at the swashing cobwebs of seed that fill you to the brim and more. Seeping from your flooded entrance slobbering in a sloppy ring around Gojo’s hefty base, one that lecherously matches the drenched white happy trail scratching up and down against your puffy clit.
“Baby, w-we-” So full it’s like you can barely even speak. Gulping in deep lungfuls of his expensive cologne when he’s stuffing into your personal space and nastily swirling his bloated cock around n’ around your rubbery walls, till you’re soaked with his cum in every nook and cranny. “-we’re already married.”
“O-oh.” He’s sucking in a sharp inhale, eyes flickering with axioms of power once he scoops up generous helpings of ivory seed topping his shaft, popping it into your mouth with a wet plop!
And then - only then - is he finally looking away from your bawling cunt.
You’re not sure whether his simpering, feral smile is because of the realization or because he’s finally noticing that he’d cum. Only…the next few words spilling from Gojo’s mouth make you realize that it’s neither- “Can see that we’re gonna have a daughter soon, Mrs. Gojo.”
“...”
A/N. Can y’all tell I’m nearing ovulation hm…
Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#nanami x reader smut#choso x reader smut#geto x reader smut
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𝜗𝜚 I CAN MAKE THAT P☆SSY RAIN OFTEN!
☆ sum. they're starving, but they aren't craving actual 'food'. they're craving what's right between your shaky pretty legs. toji, higuruma, choso, gojo, geto, sukuna.
warnings. fem! reader, cúnnilingus, face-riding / siting, eating out through panties, pússy so good he cries (choso), fīngering, unprotected, dirty talk, praise, very pússy drunk men, squīrting, hair pulling, pússy spanks, spīt, dumbification.
☆ HIGURUMA HIROMI.
you tell higuruma that’s he’s got such a rideable face, but he’s never really knew what you meant.
not until he’s buried between your thighs, having a pretty view of you caging him in with your jittery legs. “hey,” he purrs, his voice pouring with such rasp underneath it. a swollen thumb drags down near your sopping cunt and his droopy eyes meet yours. higuruma’s holding you upright whilst his free hand grabs onto your left thigh tightly. “ ‘s okay, lovey. i know you wanna ride my nose,” and his balmy breath grazes up against your slit that was just continuously weeping with saturated slick. you’re whimpering, hovering over his rosy-twitched lips before he kisses near your cracked entrance. “easy, i gotcha. jus’ sit on it, ‘s okay, you can do whatever you want to me, promise.”
and once you finally succumb to his warm filthy words—you plop yourself onto his mouth, instantly moaning at the bumpy bridge of his nose tickling against your clit. “fuck,” and you hear a throaty chuckle leave from his crooked lips. higuruma’s nose, once your pussy rubs up against the hook, you couldn’t help but start to jerk faster and faster. “hiromi, ‘m not suffocating you am i?”
“no, my love,” he whispers, flicking his flat tongue through your sensitive drooling folds. you tasted so sweet and it only left him craving for more, more of you. dark drowsy eyes stares into your eyes before his sloppy licks turn into risqué slurps. “but, i wouldn’t mind it actually. use my face darling, ‘m all yours tonight.”
higuruma’s got a cunning grin that stretches against his lips as your weight relaxes on him. you kiss your teeth, gradually rutting your trembling hips up against his salivating mouth and he groans. your clit rubs itself against his nose and his mouth, the rough rocky texture of the bridge nearly sends you over the edge.
“f- fuck, ‘romi,” you gasp, and your fragile limbs cause you to squat now. the air surrounding you suddenly feels thick and there’s a dry taste filling the inside of your mouth. as candied wanton mewls continue to pry away from your lips, you tug on his ruffled checkered tie that’s tucked underneath his button-down. his tongue that’s lapping against your honeyed flaps with the mixture of his nose sliding up and down your entrance. but you’re now stuck in nothing but a mere stupor. higuruma’s eyes never break contact and you hear the loud sloshes from his lips smack against your pussy from each succulent slurp. “ ‘m gonna cum, not gonna last hiromi.”
“aw, yeah?” he whispers, your own slick smearing against his pursed lips. your eyes roll back once the tip of his tongue thwacks and flicks against that spot, your tender g-spot. it feels gummy and spongy and he feels your quaking thighs come together, clenching a tight squeeze. “ooh, guess she is,” and a hand of his creeps toward the right curvature of your ass. you moan from his touch, weak limbs shivering from his contact. everything was building up at once—like a wave, the calm before the storm. it starts near the very pit of your stomach and it’s fluttering all around you as if butterflies resided in your insides. “there, there. don’t stop, ride my nose lovey. use me, ‘s okay.”
your face twists as he’s still got his tongue attached to your sopping cunt—you’re shaking, and you continue to grind your hips into his face.
higuruma holds you with two strong open palms, trying his best to ignore the growing tent in his business slacks. his hair, thanks to how you were mercilessly dragging his head back and forth against your slobbering pussy, it’s all unkempt and messy. strands of black hair twist and entangle between your fingers as you’re preparing for another teeth shattering orgasm. your ass teeters and twirls in crazed gyrations as the his hooked nose continue to abrade against your swollen folds. “hiromi—fuck, fuck,” you whimper, and the coil buried within you finally snaps. within seconds, you’re cumming hard—all on his tongue and the following noise that flutters past your lips was so pretty. higuruma’s hooded eyes gaze at you as he’s lapping you clean and he’s so in love. your finishing sounds sounding like a mere symphony to him. lewdly melodic.
“that’s it, lovey. oh that’s such a good messy girl, my messy baby,” he sighs, and you feel your tummy cave in at that exact moment. your drenched folds never felt more slick. he’s slurping you clean, proudly with the most tender grin stretching across his face. but that concise moment briefly gets cut short once higuruma groans—feeling the strain in his pants again, fighting the urge to stroke himself. but he can’t, this is about you. you still feel the knobby part of his nose scrape and drag against your pussy and he huskily chuckles. “ah, you’re just obsessed with my nose now, huh?”
“no i—”
“oh, don’t be embarrassed,” higuruma softly teases, his voice a bit gruff and raspy. his lips had a pretty sheeny coat of your own juices and you were still trembling once he gets up. higuruma helps you off of him and closes the gap between you both, leaning in for a kiss. it’s sweet, he moans into your mouth whilst he feels your eager hands tug on his tie. higuruma’s tongue matches your sync perfectly. both dancing muscles tangle together before he aligns himself between your legs, wrapping them around his slim waist.
“my, aren’t you a doll,” he speaks between sultry tender kisses, and his rich cologne scent almost snatches your breath away. from a mile away, you could smell it. higuruma licks the bottom of your chin—keeping his eyes firmly on you until he starts to unbuckle his belt with one hand. “but since you love my nose so much, i think you’ll like somethin’ bigger a lot better,” and you let off a gasp once you’re suddenly now flipped the mattress, and he gives your ass a playful spank. “now, be a good girl ‘n bend over for me.”
☆ SATORU GOJO.
gojo loves more than anything to just come home from dreadful hours of work, of battles—to you.
not only just to you, but the pretty thing that’s between your legs. he’s not one to waste time, and he always gets straight to the point—but in this case, straight to the pussy.
“let’s see how many fingers this time,” he coos, and you’re laid flat against your back, eyeing him. unapologetically, he’s been eating you out for hours like a starved man, drinking out each of your candied orgasms like it was nothing. gojo had a thing for your pleasure—it was far more better than his own. “one,” he whispers, slowly inserting a single long digit inside. you whimper at the immediate stretch. such thick lengthy fingers, they expanded wide throughout your walls and you shudder from his breath whistling against your folds. “twoooo,” he jibes, playfully dragging out his words. your legs were quickly melting like mush, nearly collapsing as he’s toying around the insides of your cunt. “god, she’s got so much ‘ta say today, huh?”
gojo grows quiet at the crying sloshes you make just from his twin digits jackhammering inside of you. in feral awe, he watches as you swallow up both of his long fingers with your greedy cunt, covering them from top to bottom with your slick.
every few seconds, there’s a wet sloppy ‘pop’ and ‘pshh’ that squeals out from your own entrance. “s-satoru,” you whimper and you let off an exaggerated gasp once he flicks his tongue against your throbbing clit. you’re soaked, and his chin was already raining with your juices—his favorite. as he’s got two fingers still buried inside of your gummy walls, he twists them around before he reaches there. your breath gets caught in your throat and you gasp again, letting off a sweet squealing mewl before yanking on his hair snowy white strands. “ngh, ‘toru!”
“ah,” he purrs, bringing a sloppy three second kiss toward your drooling cunt. it’s so pretty up close, he can see how you’re profusely pulsating from the stimulation and it makes a sly smile tweak against his lips. gojo’s digits resume to crimp around inside of your doughy walls before his plump fingertips tickle against your g-spot. oh, you feel static surge and pump right through your veins. the texture was spongey and squashy and he’s got a playful pout. “this is where you’re weak, right angel? mhh, such a sloppy ‘lil thing.”
you’re trembling from his staticky touch and his fingers plummeting in and out of your cunt. the sounds, it’s so messy . . it’s yourself, and you’re just a stammering mess, fumbling over your own pathetic broken sentences. “fuck, please ‘toru,” you whimper out in a sheepish tone. he goes back to running his tongue everywhere against your sopping wet cunt. to him, your folds tasted so sugary, and he’s always been known to have a little sweet tooth. gojo feels himself getting hard the more he plays with you and he lowly groans right against your pussy. the vibrations of his frustrated snarl makes you whine out in ecstasy before your eyes widen. “hnnnm, sato— fuck!”
pretty pristine lashes of his flutter shut before he gradually pries out his fingers. gojo’s so into it, he’s having an entire make out sesh with your pussy, pressing his plump vermillion-colored lips together and lapping up his own sauced saliva.
“atta girl. give it t’ me,” he grunts, and you watch with heavy eyelids just hanging low as his head starts to drag back and forth. he’s devouring your cunt, even going far as to getting nose deep just to steal a smell all for himself. the sweetest, his favorite place in the world would always have to be right between your thighs. gojo even reached down in his pants, past his cerulean blue boxers to touch himself. fuck, he was hard. and it was all because of you. he groans, giving his dick a few solid pumps whilst a callused thumb brushes against a running vein that pulses down his shaft. as his lengthy tongue trails even further, he starts to suck on your clit. he feels the pulse twitch in his mouth and he looks right up at you with the most smug pussy drunken grin. “heh, you’ve got a—”
and abruptly, you end up gushing right out just as he’s speaking. mid sentence too—you sprayed a nice amount of your release just below his chiseled chin and you let off a sweet harmonic screaming orgasm. ripples of pleasure coarse through your veins as you’re riding out your orgasm on his tongue, your body growing limp. every inch of your body though, you felt hot. your legs furiously shook and he’s still got his tongue attached to your cunt. “. . yooou little slut,” he quips with a eyebrow quirking up. gojo’s a bit taken aback but his pretty icy eyes find yours again and you spot his dimples poking near each side of his cheeks as he slyly simpers. “you just squirted on me huh. someone felt sloppy today, yeah?”
“i- i’m sorry,” you moan, still feeling the jarring after effects of your body. your thighs were glued together and you’re still panting—although gojo’s panting just as much as you if not more. despite how you were still aroused, you’ve never felt more embarrassed. thanks to your pussy, you’ve got his face drenched from the mouth down. you’re a mess, and he’s covered all in it. “i didn’t—”
“shhh,” he whispers, and you’re interrupted by a soft spank on your cunt. you whimper at the brief twinge, the unforgettable friction glissading down against your bare exposed entrance driving you more and more crazy. the air felt hot but your body felt even hotter. gojo gives your clit one final sloppy kiss before whispering against your slit. “ah, ah. don’t be sorry,” and with droopy hooded eyes, you watch as he prepares to insert not one, not two, but three fingers inside of your wet puffy cunt. “do it again.”
☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO.
toji never really believed in the saying, ‘you can’t have your cake and eat it too.’
of course, he knows the meaning of the actual common quote but in his filthy rotted brain, it means something else entirely whenever he’s buried between your thighs. toji fushiguro’s a greedy man, especially whenever it came to pussy. he won’t just eat you out, he’ll devour you, including your pretty perky ass.
two callused open palms spread the doughy globes of your ass wide open quickly. you’re whimpering, feeling his tepidly hot breath waft down your bare pulsating cunt before he spits right down the valley of your sopping wet folds.
“gotta get her nice ‘n wet, ain’t that right, baby?” he whispers, watching as his own saliva trickles down your twitching folds. you’re already moist, profusely so and he can see your pretty poor clit throbbing - aching for more. “oh, my,” he tsks, bringing his scarred lips right up to your slobbering entrance. “she’s so fuckin’ beautiful.”
“hngh, toj—”
“baby, quiet. ‘m not talkin’ to you,” he shushes you, and you let off a whine once he gives your pussy a long thorough suck. you hear the echoing ‘pop’ smack from his lips once he pulls back, flicking the cold tip of his tongue against your pearly nub. fuck, once he started it was no prying him off. toji groans, feeling his rickety hips starting to drag themselves against the edge of the bed. his bulge continues to grow in his grey cottony sweats as his lips latch onto your sweet sweet pussy.
he blows against your folds, a thumb still guiding up and down your slit before he goes toward your neglected hole—you whimper once you feel a stringy glob of saliva dribble down until it reaches near your cunt. “fuck, fuuuck,” you hiss, your toes curling up almost right away. he was just so nasty, you could tell toji’s smelling your pussy right from behind you too. he was nose deep and the tip of his nose thrashes up against your clit constantly, making you feel even more sensitive. “ngh, don’t stop, ‘toj. pleasepleasefuck.”
“god, how many times do i have ‘ta tell ya?” the dark haired man gruffs, and you feel a surging wave of tingles ripple through your thighs once he gently swats a hand against your pussy.
it’s a loud ‘smack’ that bounces off the thin walls as you bite down on your bottom lip. your slickness even spurts against his palm and it’s so cute. as he’s steadily munching against your throbbing heat, he slurps you clean again and again. “our conversation’s over,” and his voice gets deeper the faster he sucks. “she’s talkin’ ‘ta me now, not you. don’t be rude,” and toji’s hooded verdant eyes rove towards your drooling cunt as he speaks. it was over the second he’s softly inserting a fat finger inside, feeling your clingy walls accept it right away. “mhm, she’s always got so much to say. pussy’s talkative just like you, princess.”
you moan, feeling his tongue drag up and down against your clit. your mouth can’t help but drop in awe at how thick his finger was. too thick, it’s so good. it’s practically just as big as his cock, and just a single lengthy digit of his was splitting you wide open. you’re squelching and toji purposely grows quiet just to hear it - to hear the ‘words’ of your pussy, which was just the wet sloshing sounds you continue to make as he played with you.
“yeah, i fuckin’ agree,” he hums, a low cackle leaving from his lips as he’s starting to piston his finger in and out, slurping all of your sappy juices. you’re whimpering, and he’s talking over you. your limbs felt weak and you could feel your arch starting to weaken. “she’s such a baby, my baby though,” and once he tongue rummages deeper inside of you, it taps near your clit. it’s a mean tap, scratching such a forbidden itch in your brain and you almost grow stupid. toji feels you about to collapse forward due to your weak frail legs and he chuckles against your pussy. “heh, drama queen.”
you whimper as he stretches your ass more with one hand—he’s leaving all kinds of cobwebs of saliva that glues against both temples of your ass, racing down your thighs. “mmph,” he feels you claw the back of head, shoving him closer towards your pussy. a sly grin spreads against his lips and he slides his finger out, breaking away to taste it. “y’er gettin’ fuckin’ handsy, baby. careful now,” and his tongue slithers back towards your puckering hole. his same thumb pokes against it before he’s just slurping you—loud slippery sounds departing from his lips, devouring your cunt as if he was a starved, starved man.
“toj—fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you blurt out, your grip against his hair loosening. your cheek presses against the pillow as he lies his tongue flat, making sure his tongue wanders everywhere. he lolls it around to where he’s creating all kinds of letters and shapes just from his silvery tongue.
your toes continue to curl as your mouth’s just dangling open, feeling his scar repeatedly scrape up against your twitching clit. unapologetically. he spits on your entrance just to lap it right up, feeling the tint in his pants rise. he’s so hard, so fucking hard and your cute pulsing only made it worse. “shit, shit toji please,” your sweet babbles ring against his ears as he feels the shimmy of your hips. you could never stay still, and that was one of the many things he loved about you.
“yeah, cum on my face. make a fuckin’ mess, make me proud baby,” a low voice grumbles from behind, and his tongue’s still delving in and out of your sappy folds. you’re so soaked, his lips were so loud with how they suction against your slick pussy and you were just dumb. dumbfounded, his tongue had you utterly stupid and you only wanted more. but a hard hand swats against your sensitive cunt, snapping you back to reality. “c’mon, ‘m thirsty. give me my meal.”
gasping for air, you let off a tiny shriek once you finally let go, feeling such intense pressure lift up from the center of your abdomen. you’re frazzled, dewy eyes staring into the satiny cushioned pillow that’s shoved against your face as you burst. “fuck—fuck,” you whine, and it feels like a geyser just erupted. except, the geyser was right between your legs. you’re squirting, and it shoots out so fast, trickling down toji’s chin and even paints his dark stubble a sheeny glistening color. as he’s slowly gliding his tongue against your folds one more time, he blinks thrice whilst a smug grin stretches against his lip.
“well how about that,” toji snickers, and he gives your cunt one more suck, smearing your slick all over his chin. he didn’t care how much of a mess you made - it was his mess too. you can almost feel his lewd gaze bore into your ass before he peels a thumb against your clit. “looks like she’s still got it,” and you moan, feeling him give your pussy a ‘praising’ good job pat. he hums, feeling you throb on his palm. as he’s catching his breath just like you, toji hums, flipping you over. “my girl can’t help but be a fuckin’ super soaker, cute. .”
☆ CHOSO KAMO.
choso was always exhausted whenever he came home, constant battles on a daily would wear anyone out. but it was all worth it because in the end, he came home to you. his pretty girl—but today, today was different.
“i need you,” he murmurs out of breath, and you’re taken by surprise as you lazily flop back against the couch with your legs slightly spread open. the last thing you’d expect was to see choso on his knees for you. he suppresses a whimper that’s so close to flying from his lips before he nips a few wet kisses near your thighs. “ ‘m so starved, baby. been too long since i—” and he cuts off. pretty mahogany eyes of his suddenly widen once you pull down your shorts with one hand, revealing your panties. purple, the lacy fabric decorates the valley cracks of your thighs and shields your most sensitive bits. choso can’t help but pout once you softly grab onto the crown of his head, rummaging your fingers through his loose ravened tresses and tickling his scalp. with a needy pout, he looks at you whilst he’s leaning into your touch. “may i?”
“yeah, but keep the panties on though ‘cho,” you reply in a cheeky tone, watching the frustrated pout on his face grow. but he doesn’t complain, and instead, he inches his face closer and closer and closer, all until he’s eating you out through your panties. “f- fuck.” you’d swallow as a sharp gasp wrenches out of your full heaving lungs.
once he started—there was no stopping.
choso’s whines were muffled as his knees were dug, buried into the furry carpet ground. his pretty lashes flap as his tongue delicately laps around your sopping cunt—oh, you’re such a tease. despite how your underwear was in the way of the part he really wanted to eat, he still tasted how soaked you were. not only that, but he could smell it too. “god, ‘s unfair,” he grunts, swirling his tongue around every part he could get to. your breath hitches and your fingers were still intertwined between his thin strands. “mmph,” and he can’t help but smell your panties. he’s missed you so much. as choso’s soft kitten licks turn into slurps within a soak of just a few seconds few seconds—he glances up at you with a cute frown. panting, he murmurs. “can i- can i touch myself?”
“no, choso,” you tease him some more,” and you spread your legs just a bit wider. with the wide eyed stare he’s giving you and the way his mouth was cutely just dangling open, you’d have thought he was about to drool all over you. so pretty, he almost loses composure once you finally pull a string of your panties toward the side of your thigh. “not yet.”
“so mean,” he cutely grumps, his plump lips curling into another pout again as he’s positioned right between your plush thighs. choso leans into your tender touch though, and he goes back to licking your pussy. he moans, trying to savor your taste as much as he could. choso’s tense arms remain idle—although he’s just itching to touch himself and it doesn’t take long before his chin starts to glisten with slick - your slick. choso couldn’t help himself though, so he starts to find another way to feel.
his rickety hips start to jerk up against the edge of the couch and he’s ruthlessly grinding into the furniture. he’s feral like a animal and heat—all for you - just for you. “mmph, fuck,” he whines, feeling such hot friction bristle against your body and it ricochets onto his. choso already had a boner by just looking at you—but now, he was definitely pent up. the tent in his sweats only grows as he continues to rummage his warm tongue through the corners and crevices of your cunt. gasping, you start to slowly drag his head further against you. “baby, ‘m so hard. so hard jus for you.”
choso was such a messy eater though—he was inexperienced in some areas, sure. but when it came to eating you out, he never failed to please you. he couldn’t get enough of you, especially when you tasted like that. his head can’t help but move around and crazily shift everywhere. he’s devouring your cunt whilst his hips continue to thrust against the edge of the couch over and over and over again.
the snapping creaks get more rowdier before you dig your fingers through his scalp once more. you always tried your best to shower him with praises whenever he was stuffed between your thighs—eating out your precious pussy as if it was the last meal to exist on earth. “ ‘s okay, cho, right there baby. right there, fuck.”
your sweet praises made his ears perk up and twitch and it’s so cute to see. choso’s so into it that he whines right against your cunt, hot breath colliding against your slick flaps. you whine, continuing to guide his face by dragging his head around and against your sloppy entrance. “mmph,” his voice is still muffled as his tongue occasionally rubs against your clit. choso sucks against it hard just to hear you whimper out. his eyes were closed the entire time—but after a while, you hear a bit of a subtle sniffle. you peer down, and it’s choso. he’s sniffling, quite literally getting lost in your pussy. both chubby temples of his face flush as his tongue’s wanders in every neglected corner of your gripping walls. you pause, about to pry his head away and ask what’s wrong before he clings onto your hips, shaking his head firmly. “n- no, don’t move away please. ‘m not done.”
and choso was sniffling solely because of your cunt. it was that good. . he couldn’t comprehend how something from a mere human such as yourself could taste this divine. he’s melting into putty in real time the more he’s slurping your honeyed juices—spitting it all over your clit before cleaning it right back up like a good boy. “fuck,” he whimpers, still thrusting his keen hips into the corner of the couch. he’s so loud, even louder than you and it’s adorable. “baby, i- i love you, i love you s’much,” he starts to babble, and his slurps become more wet and noisy. the lewd squelches from your own pussy bounces and reverbs off the walls and off your ears. your carnal moans only make him more hard as he’s feeling his boner drag itself further against the silky fabric of his grey sweats. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again, n- not again, ugh.”
he freezes like a deer in headlights the moment the center of his boxers fills itself with damp grey splotches—he felt it, and he moans whilst he’s still got a mouth full of your pussy. “aw man,” he pouts, his chest heaving as he pries his lips away from your throbbing cunt. teary eyed and a cute determined pout on his lips, choso kisses your clit one more time before sighing. “baby, can we retry? i- i’ll do better this time, promise.”
☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.
sukuna’s a filthy pussy eater. . he’s fucking nasty.
he’s a demon and he has no shame. eating you out was a mere pastime for him. whenever he was bored, all he’d really have to do was summon you to his royal chambers to ‘entertain him’ in his own words.
of course, whenever this happens, it always escalates to you laid flat on his king sized bed with your legs widely sprawled—having the sukuna ryomen nose deep inside of your cunt. one of sukuna’s favorite things to do was to eat you out directly after he came inside you.
“brat, stay still,” he murmurs to you, but due to the carnally low pitch in his voice, it sounded like a playful warning. your bottom lip gets caught in between your teeth as you gnaw on it, feeling your stomach churn with such excited apprehension. sukuna’s tall frame towers over you and you gulp at the demon right before your very eyes. you take a moment to glance down at his cock, spotting his pink swollen tip that’s profusely all runny and flaccid. you milked him so much earlier, and he groans at the feeling of still being sensitive. back to his own eyes, they gloss over near your stretched out legs and peek right between your thighs. such goopy ribbons of cum ooze out of your pussy and you spot him licking his lips, a single fang cutely poking out near the corner of his mouth. “hn,” he grouses, and with two hands, he scoots your waist up closer to his hungry sheeny lips.
“suku— fuck,” you squeal, and it was so quick. one second he was telling you to stay still and the next, he’s eating his own cum out of you. filthy, the perfect word to describe sukuna. for once, he’s only ever quiet and shuts up when it comes to your sweet pussy - funny. rolling out his tongue flat against your shimmery entrance, his pink thin brows then compress together in obscene concentration. your back rests flat against one of his many cushioned pillows and your jaw dangles open. “fuck, fuck,” you repeat in broken sweet whimpers, now staring to feel his forked tongue roam all throughout your sensitive walls.
sukuna’s ear twitches once he hears a sudden slosh. as if a sudden instinct triggered him, his cold red eyes flicker toward your left thigh. a creamy droplet of cum starts to drip down the side of your leg. “what a sloppy girl you are,” he huffs, and his tongue licks it right up. he’s not even fazed by the bittersweet taste of himself that’s coating all on his tongue. your stomach caves in and out as he continues to feast—every few seconds, the keen sharp edges of his fangs would nip against your clit. your body would arch forward and you’d give him that cute twisting facial expression every time. “just look at this mess,” he speaks through clenched teeth and an even more clenched jaw.
the curse’s stern crimson eyes rove gawk toward your soppy clit as he pries his lips away—his lips were a pearly pink, lathered with your slick and excess amounts of his own forbidden taste. “ah, don’t even think about closin’ these beauties yet,” and you shiver once he presses a kiss near the neglected crevice of your thigh. your head tosses back as you’re just panting heavily, your chest tightening up with each drawn breath. “hm, ‘s still pouring out of you. how uncouth,” and you whimper once he spits right on your cunt, lapping it right up before kissing your weeping folds once more. “taught you all these manners ‘n you’re still just my sloppy girl. ‘s that right, princess?”
“sukuna, fuuuck,” you babble out, and you gasp once he slowly inserts a thick finger inside, hooking the fat digit all throughout your saturated walls.
“little girl, that’s not the answer to my question,” he tsks, and you release another moan at the feeling of his long finger scissoring its way inside of you, swirling all around deeply. sukuna adds even more pressure by sucking down on your achy clit, dampening his own sculptured chin with your slit soaking against the lower part of his jaw.
you are indeed a mess, stammering out the same loop of pathetic cries as he slurps up his own mess out of you. sukuna snickers, bringing a palm toward your pussy just to watch you wince in pleasure. the sting, your legs were on the verge of snapping shut and he knew that. “tell me,” he utters hoarsely, gradually pulling out his finger and licks it slowly from top to bottom. staring you dead in the eyes, he kisses your folds once more. “who’s pussy is this?”
“yours,” you hiss through gritted teeth at the spank. your sobbing pussy’s met with another rude spank and you gasp, feeling your perky nipples poke further against the fabric of your tank top. “s- sukuna.”
with another spank, spurts of your own dewy juices coat the wide palm of his hand and his crimson-velvet eyes narrow at you. “that’s right, pet. all mine,” and for one last time, he brings a sloppy four second kiss towards your runny cunt. sukuna’s lewd slurps echo through his chambers indefinitely. “you know it ‘n she knows it too.”
☆ GETO SUGURU.
suguru geto eats you out like it’s his favorite hobby, call him a professional swimmer because he loves drowning in your sweet sweet cunt. well, minus the swimming part though.
“sit,” he murmurs, and you swallow thickly as you’re hovering right over his face - his pretty emotionless face. geto’s eyes bore into you and he gives your ass a playful pinch. with ravened dark strands still running down both of his eyes, he licks against your thigh. “sit on my face, pretty girl. ‘m fuckin’ hungry,” and you moan once his teeth tug against the hem of your panties. “there we go,” he coaxes—watching as you leisurely start to lower yourself down onto his face. as he speaks, his voice lowers a single octave and it makes you pulse right between your legs - how embarrassing. your weight slowly but surely makes its way toward his mouth that’s seeping with eager drool from the sides before you’re now sitting on his face. then, you’re met with the most smug expression from geto whilst he opens his mouth, parting his thin slick-spit lips. “lay it on me, yeah. good girl. good fuckin’ girl.”
“fuh— fuuuck,” a whine spews from your lips once his tongue naturally lies itself flat against your entrance. his tongue was frigidly cold and you feel it, the brief knobby texture of his tongue makes your toes curl up. geto’s lashes flap close as he’s slurping up all of you, taking long dramatic gulps whilst a hand cups the fat plush skin of your ass. your hips stutter at first — you’re shy a bit at how you’re just sitting on his face, but he then grabs you by the hips, slamming you further down against his tongue. “suguru,” you whine, chewing the inside of your cheek. his eyes were closed and he’s just merrily munching against your cunt as if he didn’t have a single care in the world. spoiler alert, he didn’t. geto’s head though was maddened. it jerks from left to right, and he’s already growing feral within seconds.
“heyy girl,” he whispers in a raspy voice, feeling your nervous hips swerve in cute crazed arcs. for the life of you—you just couldn’t stay still and he found that so adorable. your eyes were looking anywhere but him and his long fat tongue slowly licks around your tender clitoral hood. geto slides two thick fingers down your pussy, feeling you tense up and he hums. “look at me, eyes on me, sweetheart,” he reminds you, and you watch as his lips twist up. even between your legs—he’s so pretty, and stringy glimmering strands of his own saliva starts to dribble down his sharp chin. he was a mess right underneath you and your clammy hands find their way in his hair, tangling through his matted dark locks. “want you to look at me while i make love to my other favorite girl,” he whispers in a rough voice, and you moan once his tongue hastily flicks against your pulsating nub more.
as you’re shaking all from his tongue and his sly wry words, your eyes lock onto geto’s. “fuck, suguru,” you moan, your fingers getting lost in his shaggy jet-black strands. he’s so pretty, he’s got the most unbothered deadpan plastered on his face while he’s eating you out, dragging his long tongue through your treacly sensitive regions. oh, he just couldn’t get enough of you. geto loves to spit all on your pussy just to have it fall back into his mouth, smearing his crooked pink lips all over your puffy soddened folds as if it was his own personal lip gloss. “y- you’re so nasty, sugu.”
“yeah? praise me more sweetheart,” he utters in a husky voice, and you knew he was joking but you throbbed either way. your hips were so unsteady the more you sat on his face. fuck, he’s staring dead at you too, raising a dark brow before laughing against your cunt. cool breath tickles near your pulsating entrance before he blows against your folds. “aw, quiet now huh. ‘s my tongue really too much? maybe i should stop.”
“n- no, please,” you whine, and your hands rigorously pull onto his strands. the dark haired man looks at you with a sleazy grin, such viscous gooey strands of your own slick dripping down his chin. geto was already pussy drunk, you could tell. he loved hearing those sweet whimpers of yours squawk out the back of your throat despite how you’re trying oh so hard to shut yourself up.
geto loved whenever you got loud for him—he didn’t care who heard. but on the other hand though, his tongue was just plain evil, he made sure to spell out all types of letters and shapes on your pussy. he even spelled his name. your pussy was so loud too, the sloshes were so sopping wet that you couldn’t even believe that was coming right out of you. with a quivering bottom lip, you grab him by the hair, pulling his head up a bit so he could look you straight in the eye again. “don’t stop, suguru. ngh, please. need you to—”
“need? oh, girl,” he sassily snickered, and you moan once his palm firmly swats against your swollen cunt. you were wet, shamelessly dripping down and with his hand now smacking against your folds, you were even more soaked. geto’s low voice and the way it pitches makes your thighs nearly give up, on the verge of collapsing. “dumb girl, stop thinkin’ with your cunt when you speak to me. you don’t need shit,” and he playfully nibbles on your clit. “right, pretty girl?”
geto calling you a dumb girl and a pretty girl in the same sentence made your brain ache—
your breath grows significantly shallow as you stare at him and he’s got nothing but a feral hungry glint in his eyes. “i- i want you make me cum, sugu,” you correct yourself, and your cunt’s just desperately throbbing. every nerve stored inside of your sopping clit, you felt it all. just yearning for you to let go—you were right there, you were so close to your release that you could almost taste it. so bittersweet, the pointed tips of your ears grew hot as you started to grind your sloppy hips against his face again. “please, please. make me cum, suguru. want your tongue, pretty please.”
“that’s my girl,” he coos, a thumb gliding down your runny slit. his cold breath wafts against your pussy and you shiver before his nibbles against your sweet cute nub turn into greedy elongated sucks. geto’s head quickly sashays side to side again in a frantic manner before he grunts. “mhm, c’mon then. give it to me, princess. make a mess so i can clean it right up, atta girl.”
a whirling pool of heat continues to stir up inside of you and you that’s when you feel it. the immense intensity of raunchy pressure that’s shocking every part of your body. your knees buckle and you’re already weak but his tongue makes you ten times weaker. you’re defeated, an easy ko—knock-out, all from a simple tongue with the addition of filthy dirty words. the moment you cum, your mind shoots blanks.
“oh, sugu—fuck,” you then squeak once it all pours out of you. it’s as if you’ve been waiting for eons, and you suddenly feel weightless. you’re twitching and even after your orgasm, you still feel the sloppy laps of his tongue—strings of cobwebby spit glossing his lips before he finally departs. “ngh, suguru.” you’d babble as you’re still weakly riding geto’s tongue. the overstim scratches such a carnal itch in your brain and it makes your eyes roll all the way back.
geto’s catching his breath, running his tongue over his dampened lips before he watches you slump back against the cushioned mattress all pretty and breathless. so cute, the way your chest heaves in and out and your thighs still shook with intense elation. “aw, tired already?” and he crawls up beside you, sneaking a kiss near your neck. “but oh, we’re just gettin’ started, princess. that was just a test run, silly.”
#★vegasbaby.#toji smut#choso smut#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#toji x reader#choso x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#higuruma hiromi#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#geto suguru x reader#jjk#female reader#jjk headcanons#choso x you#cw sex mention
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rafe having no boundaries and grabbing his girlfriend's ass in front of family during a family trip
A little Rafe and Sarah being siblings
—
‘’Can you not do that here?’’ Sarah grimaced after Rafe wandered in and smacked your ass on his way to the fridge. ‘’We’re cooking. That’s gross.’’
You and Sarah had woken up earlier than everyone else and decided to whip some pancake batter. They were coming along nicely, slowly piling up on a plate.
Rafe rolled his eyes in response and leaned against the kitchen counter. ‘’Chill out, Sarah. I’m just saying ‘good morning’ to my girl.’’
Sarah scoffed, giving him a glare as you flipped out the pancake in the pan. ‘’Well, keep your 'good mornings' to yourself until after breakfast and when I’m not around, alright? I’ve seen and heard enough things I didn’t want to.’’
Your cheeks turned red and you kept your eyes on the pan, embarrassed as memories of Sarah catching you topless in their pool and all the times she heard you through the walls of Tannyhill before Rafe got his own place. You’ll never apologize to her enough.
‘’Stop acting like a prude. I’ve heard you on the phone with that pogue you’re seeing. Ahh, John B., I wish your fingers were inside me. I’m so close, I need to—’’
Sarah grabbed a blueberry and threw it at her brother, her face burning hot at his mockery. If eyes could kill, Rafe would be a dead man. She looked murderous.
Rafe smirked, unfazed by the blueberry that was thrown his way. He crossed his arms crossed over his broad chest, and his blue eyes flickered with amusement. ‘’These walls are old. Did you think I couldn’t hear you?’’
To avoid a Sarah vs Rafe duel from happening, you asked Rafe if he wanted chocolate chips or blueberries in his pancakes. You already knew the answer, but you needed to defuse the bomb before it would explode.
‘’Blueberries. You know how I like my pancakes, baby,’’ he said, pushing himself off the counter and closing the distance between you and him in a few strides.
Sarah shot a glare in his direction, her eyes narrowing, but Rafe chose to ignore her and kiss your shoulder, standing right behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his chest against your back and resting his chin above your shoulder.
‘’Rafe, you’re distracting me,’’ you warned, pouring batter in the pan and adding some blueberries.
Rafe laughed lowly, his chest rumbling against your back as his arms wrapped tighter around your waist. He pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot behind your ear, his lips lingering on your skin for a few seconds. ‘’These look good. Think we can take the pancakes to bed after you’re done?’’
Breakfast in bed, away from everyone else, sounded tempting. You've had breakfast with the Camerons since you arrived, sticking to the polite routine. You missed being alone with Rafe in the morning, taking it slow and engaging in non-PG activities.
Before you answered, Sarah cleared her throat beside you, a disapproving look on her face. Rafe thought he was subtle and sleek when he had his hand wander under your robe.
He lifted his head and gave her a cocky grin. ''What?''
‘’In case you forgot, I’m still here,'' the blonde recalled, taking a few plates from the cupboards and deciding to set the table. ‘’And Wheezie and Dad and Rose are gonna come down soon.’’
‘’I know,'' Rafe replied, stepping back and letting you finish the pancakes. ''If you had not been here, I would have her bent over the counter already.’’
His words should have shocked you, but you were used to his bluntness by now. Rafe never held back, always saying exactly what was on his mind, no matter how outrageous. No matter the audience. You thought he would behave and tone it down with Wheezie in the house, but he didn’t.
Thankfully, her young ears were not around.
You looked over your shoulder, failing at hiding the smirk that tugged at the corners of your lip.
—
OBX taglist: @moralina@eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx@sweeterheartxamerica @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage @maybankslover @sunflowerziva @laylasbunbunny @Honey-marvel15 @leoluvsur-pappy @slytherhoes @kcskye123 @outerbanksacc @pedrosprincess @mikaelsonsstuff @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @madelynie @loverofdrewstarkey @radiant-whore @outsider-at-hogwarts @luci1fer @bbycowboi @rafecameronsbadussy @urbfsbitchlol @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @Veescorneroftheworld @papayaboyluvr @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @johannelis2302nely @lynbubble @straberryshortcake143 @beth-gallagher22 @doestalker @rubyliquor @theflcwer @angelxxrose @sierraluvzz @cruzgrecia @evelestrange @sunnysunny133696 @under-seasoned-pasta @hoeforsirius @buckyswhxre @emerald-09 @simonessolarsystem @rehead1180 @stvrkey @ynmunson @riddle18 @love4ldr @withfireandbl00d @wonderland2425 @blublock404 @eddieslut69
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron obx
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I used to date an older guy (like mid 40s) a few years back and I always got stupidly turned on when he fixed stuff around his house?? Like, he just knew hot to do it and did it. No googling, just him and his tools. Feel like it would fit somewhere in your older bf Simon stuff.
god love a fully capable “fuck it i’ll do it” type of man 🫶🏼
you know that your older bf!simon doesn’t believe in hiring tradespeople for a service.
“why would i pay someone to fuck about in my home?”
“they’re not fucking about, si! they’d be fixing the sink”
“i’ll do it”
you have no doubt that simon was more than capable of fixing things around the house but you also wanted him relaxing when he was home.
turns out he couldn’t relax at the thought of another man doing something for you.
so you let him do it, you threw your hands up and waved your white tea towel in defeat as you heard him banging around in the garage for tools.
hearing the faint sounds of grunting and the occasional swear word coming from the bathroom, you thought it might pay to go and see how he was getting on.
fucking hell.
simon was on his back, arms stretched up above him as his hands dwarfed the pipe they were wrapped around. t-shirt riding up, lines of his stomach leading right to his belt, knees bent and boots firmly planted on the floor, you could honestly just-
“oi, you gonna’ stare or help me?”
now how the fuck?
“your heads in the cupboard, how did you know-“
“i always know where you are, pass me the wrench”
crouching down beside him, you handed it over and stayed down there to watch him work. scarred knuckles wrapped around the handle of the tool, other palm flat against the base of the sink so you could see the veins.
he was something else entirely.
“how d’you know how to do all this?”
“taught m’self, come hold this”
you reached over to replace where his palm was so he could have both hands back. “but why? surely other people don’t learn all this?”
“other people don’t care about their sweet’art not having to lift a finger- move your finger for me”
the more you stretched to hold the sink, the more you felt yourself losing traction with it. naturally, simon noticed before you did.
“y’need to get closer, cm’ere”
tools landing to the side of him, two large hands plucked you up till you were dropped in his lap. precarious situation but you couldn’t deny the sink was a lot easier to reach.
you stayed like that, letting simon work in peace as you enjoyed your view. honestly, he could invite you to the end of the world and you’d just be happy to hold his hand.
one hand splayed out on his chest, the other holding the sink, you suddenly felt a tickle forming at the end of your nose. before you knew it, you were pulling your hand back to scratch it- the one holding the sink.
you panicked, realising it could very well land on simon’s head. but it didn’t, it stayed completely still. face screwing up, you leant in again to give the sink a nudge only to find out it was totally fixed.
“what the hell, si? why’d you have me doing all that?”
you saw the smirk on his face as he flashed a look over at you. suddenly, you realised you weren’t the only one enjoying the view.
the hand that didn’t have the wrench came out to give you a pat on the side of your hip.
“c’mon sweet’art, i can’t get anything outta’ this?”
#GOD i need him i neeeeed him#this is self indulgent my bf is a tradie i regularly objectify him when he’s fixing our home#ANYWAY when tf is that ghost mask coming from amazon#WHO SAID THAT?#older bf!simon#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley blurb#simon riley drabble#simon ghost riley blurb#simon ghost riley drabble#simon riley x reader
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Sex in the suit (Wolverine)
Description: Y/N wants Logan to fuck her in the Wolverine suit
Warning: Smut, Wade
Word Count: 1,123k
Logan looked so hot in his suit. Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes off him. So much so that Wade teases her about it anytime he sees her staring at him. “Ya know I don’t blame you, Peanut looks hot af in that suit.” Wade says, making Y/N giggle. Logan looks over and sees her giggling. He walks over to them, “You making my girl laugh?” He asked jokingly. Wade raises his eyebrows under his mask, “Listen Friendo you have no reason to be jealous. Little Y/N over here has a mask kink.” Y/N’s jaw dropped at that and looked over at her friend shocked. Logan didn’t really have a reaction which worried her even though they were dating. She looked at him worried but he didn’t even look mad or upset. “Wow, are you turning her down? I’ll take you up on that, cupcake.” Logan glared at him.
“So the suit turns you on?” He asked them as she ate dinner. She chewed slowly and looked at him. “Wrong time to ask, don't ya think?” She asked. He shrugged, “You’re almost done.” He had a point but she was thinking about food not him fucking her in the suit….well shit now she was. “But yeah, especially the mask.” She says. He raises his brows, “really?” He asked.
She can’t think straight when thinking about it. He looked so sexy in it and all she wanted to do was fuck him. She finished her last bite and quickly took the plate from her. She looked at him as he set it on the table. He came over to her and picked her up, making her giggle. “You keep giggling like that, I’ll fuck you right here on the table babygirl.” He growls. “As long as you wear the suit I don’t care where you fuck me.” She purred. He set her on the counter, “stay right here.” He runs out of the room leaving her in her thoughts. She bit her lip just thinking about what was in store.
She decided to help him out by taking off her sweats leaving her in her shirt and panties. Her panties were lace and yellow fitting the vibe. Her panties were nearly soaked. It wasn’t too much longer that he walked in the kitchen in the suit and he had the mask on as well. Her jaw dropped as if it was the first time seeing him in the suit. He walked up to her and she wrapped her legs around him pulling him closer, “You look so hot baby.” She said and kissed him. The mask made it a little harder but it was still enjoyable. His large hands moved up her thighs to her wet panties.
She gasped in the kiss as he rubbed over her clothed clit. “Fuck you’re wet.” He groaned. She moaned and threw her head back. His finger sped up the pace and his other hand gripped her hip hard, probably leaving a mark. She tried to move her hips but he stopped her, making her whine. “Relax baby. I want to fuck you on my cock.” His deep voice said. She whimpered at his words and he stopped rubbing her. He pulled down her panties and threw them somewhere in the kitchen. He picked her up and turned her around so her ass was up in the air.
“This beautiful ass is just begging for it.” He said, slapping it. She moaned and shook her ass for him. He pulled down his pants and stroked himself a few times before lining up with her wet hole. He rubbed himself against her a few times before sliding in. He was bigger than anyone she’s had sex with prior but so she still was getting used to his size. It took him a minute to fully be inside of her. Her gasps as she got used to him always got him. Once he was in her, he let her adjust before gripping her hips. His grip was tight as he fucked her back on his cock. He wasn’t joking when he said he was gonna fuck her on his cock.
It was long before she was making the loudest noise possible. Luckily Wade wasn’t staying over like he usually would so they both could be as loud as they wanted. “Fuck Wolvy your dick hits all the right spots.” She whines. Never had she called him that before. But by the speed of him slamming her onto his dick increasing, she knew he liked it. “Fuck sweetheart your pussy is so warm and made for me.” He groaned. Her hands had nothing to grip onto, so her fingers dug into the table.
“Right where we eat letting me take you like the dirty whore you are.” She moaned at that and clenched around him. “Fuck baby girl if you do that again I might cum.” He moaned. He rarely ever moaned, just grunts and groans so she almost fell over the edge hearing that sound. “I’m close.” She whined and he grunted. His pace was inhuman fast as he had her fucking him and basically rearranging her organs. He twitched inside of her and they both knew that words didn’t and couldn’t be said. Her eyes rolled back and she nearly screamed his name as she came all over his cock.
He slowed the pace to let her ride out her orgasm. Little breathy moans left her mouth. He picked up the pace again making her whine out of sensitivity. “I know, baby. Daddy’s almost there.” He grunted. His hands squeezed her hips hard and he came inside of her not caring about protection. She gasped feeling his cum fill her up for the first time. He pulled out of her and watched as his cum spilled out of her. He took his hand and swirled her hole and pushed some of it back in her. She whimpered and he chuckled, “Be kinda hot to see you pregnant with my baby.” He said.
“Yeah that would be hot, Peanut.” They both turned to see Wade in his Deadpool suit sitting on the window. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Logan growled. Y/N hid her body the best that she could from Wade. “Relax. I nearly missed the climax.” Logan growled and stormed up to him after pulling up his pants. “Why are you mad, Peanut? You at least got some action.” He said in defense. “Wade go home.” Y/N whined, annoyed that he saw them like that. “Not the kind of whining I want to hear.” He said and Wolverine’s claws came out. “Leave.” He growled at Wade and he sighed. “Fine. But next time invite me will ya?” “WADE!”
#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine#wolverine smut#wolverine x reader#wolverine imagine#wolverine xmen#logan howlett#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett smut#hugh jackman#ryan reynolds#wade wilson#deadpool#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#mcu#x men#x men x reader
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home for the holidays (part one) - r.c.
❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️
summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…
content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni
Brodyyy <3: hey thanks again for offering to give me a ride back to nc for break!
You: ofc! anything for u after u gave me those o chem notes bestie
Brodyyy <3: i’m glad to hear ya say that…bc i have one more favor to ask
You: what’s up?
Brodyyy <3: one of my frat bros needs a ride back too, can he join?
You: does he live near us?
Brodyyy <3: he’s from obx but if you get us to my house I can take him the rest of the way in my mom’s car, so no extra driving for you!
You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!
You: as long as i’m home before 6pm on the 21st i’m good
Brodyyy <3: cookie day?
You: exactly, u get me
Brodyyy <3: dw we’ll get you home in time for cookies! Tysm!
You: np!
You: what’s his name btw?
Brodyyy <3: …
You: *questioned* “what’s his name btw?”
Brodyyy <3: rafe
You: be so fr rn
You: as in cameron???
You: Brody, did u seriously invite rafe cameron to drive home with us??
Hour one
You could see your breath, fog filling the air with each shivering exhale as you pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. Even after three-and-a-half years, you’d never gotten used to these North Eastern winters. The plan was to be well on your way towards a milder climate by now, but here you were, leaning against the open hatchback trunk of your car, desperately clutching your hot coffee as you waited for your friend to show up. With his friend. You rolled your eyes as you checked the time on your phone for the hundredth time, none of your many texts to Brody returned.
“Brody, I swear to god,” you mumbled under your breath, “five more minutes and I’m leaving your ass.”
Time ticked on without any sight of him. With a resigned sigh, you reached up to close the trunk.
“Hey wait up!” a voice called from behind you. You whipped around to find its owner.
Standing a few feet back on the sidewalk, sherpa lined corduroy jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and obnoxiously handsome smirk painted on his face, was Rafe Cameron. Notorious playboy, frat president, and hands down your least favorite person on this campus.
It wasn’t a big school, everyone knew Rafe Cameron. All of your friends had crushes on him, some of them even managed to hook up with him or have stories of making out with him at frat parties. Every Friday night, he popped up on every Insta story on campus, somehow everywhere at once, and yet your paths had never crossed directly. You were okay with that. You knew his type well enough.
“I’m Rafe,” he interjected when you didn’t greet him.
“I know,” you said dryly.
“My reputation precedes me?” He grinned, his slight southern drawl reminding you of home with a pang of nostalgia, until you remembered that this guy was from a completely different world than you.
“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” you shot back, slamming the trunk closed. “Where’s Brody?”
Rafe usually gave people about ten seconds before he decided if he liked them or not. A lethal combination of impatience and general distrust that he disguised seamlessly under cocky confidence. Your arms were crossed in hostility as you frowned at him, even though he’d barely said two words to you.
Ah yes, he knew exactly your type. You were that irritating brand of stuck up smart girl who always saw right through him. Sure, you were surprisingly really pretty, a fact Brody had forgotten to mention, but annoying nonetheless. He decided right then not to like you, since you so clearly had already decided not to like him.
“He’s not coming,” Rafe informed you. “Didn’t he tell you?”
“No, he didn’t,” you huffed, “Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he got a gig with a professor to be a research assistant, but he’s gotta stay on campus to do it,” he explained.
“He could’ve told me,” you rolled your eyes, checking the time again to calculate how far behind his no-show had made you. “I’m gonna have to adjust the schedule.”
“The schedule?” He cocked his head, picking up on the tightly wrinkled knot in your forehead as you pulled a folded piece of graph paper from your pocket.
It was color coded and intricate, every mile, every meal, every gas stop accounted for, down to the minute. You had a pencil in your hair, tucked neatly into your messy bun so you could pull it out quickly and make necessary changes, as you were doing now. You held the paper up against the side of your car, erasing and scribbling intensely as you recalculated the trip.
“I need to be home by six at the latest, it’s nine now, that leaves only an hour for stops and traffic, we were supposed to leave at eight…” you looked up to eye him pointedly as you said the last part, silently blaming him for the delay as you did your mental math.
“Sorry to make you wait, I needed my beauty sleep,” he raised his hands in defense, lips curling back to display his shiny white smile. “You don’t think this all just happens naturally do you?” He gestured to his face.
You tucked the paper back into your pocket as you eyed him up and down, unimpressed and yet simultaneously beginning to understand why all your girlfriends had fallen so easily for this douchebag. He was handsome, sharp features permanently set in an arrogant smirk. His body was tall and lean yet built, enough that you could tell he was muscular even under all those layers. His dirty blonde hair sat messy over his forehead, sticking out at all angles in a way that made it clear he’d just woken up.
But you were smart, life and your high IQ made you an expert in reading people. You could see right through him.
“I wasn’t waiting for you, I was waiting for Brody,” you shut him down. “And since he’s apparently not coming, I’m gonna hit the road,” you slammed the trunk closed, pulling your keys from your pocket and making your way to the driver’s side door.
You opened the door, fully intending to climb in and drive off on your own, but Rafe appeared quickly by your side, closing the door before you could climb in.
“Woah, woah, wait,” he said, his arm out next to your head to hold the door closed.
You scoffed at his boldness and stepped back, “uhm excuse me!”
“You’re excused,” he smirked down at you. “How am I gonna get home?”
“Greyhound station is that way,” you pointed over your shoulder, trying to push him out of the way of your door, but he was too sturdy to be moved. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, planting himself.
“I’d rather ride with you,” he flashed you a devilish grin you just knew he was used to throwing around like currency.
“Dude, can you just let me into my car?” You shut him down.
“What’s the magic word?” God, did this guy have a punchable face.
“Please,” you reluctantly let out through gritted teeth.
“Hmm, no,” he turned it back on you, planting his feet firmly on the ground, both of you knowing there was no way you were gonna be able to overpower his large frame.
“Okay seriously? I know you’re used to using your body to get what you want, but it’s not gonna work this time,” you were done fucking around, an invisible clock ticking in your mind while your trip was delayed even further by this jackass. “Get away from my car.”
“I will when you agree to give me a ride,” his lips twisted and his voice dropped, aimed down at you, “or we can keep standing here and talking about my body.”
You couldn’t help but blush, and he couldn’t help but like it. The embarrassment at the involuntary response only fueled your anger.
“Why would I do that? I don’t even know you,” it wasn’t entirely true, you knew more than you cared to know about him. Or at least, in this moment, you thought you did.
“Brody said you owe him a favor right? Do it for him,” he suggested.
“If he wanted to cash in on his favor, he should’ve been here himself.”
“Okay then, what if I paid for gas? What was Brody gonna do, go 50/50 with you? I’ll cover the whole trip,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, opening it to flash you his black card.
You couldn’t help but also notice the polaroids tucked in the see-through pockets. On one side, what appeared to be a family photo; Rafe, an older man and two young girls smiling on a giant boat. On the other side, some sorority girls in bikinis, flashing the camera at a charity car wash. Who the fuck was this guy?
“Brody was also gonna take you the rest of the way to the Outer Banks. I’m going west and there’s no way I’m getting on a ferry, how are you gonna get home?” You reasoned, though he could hear in your tone that you were starting to actually consider saying yes.
Time to bring it home, he thought.
“I’ll figure it out. Just get me to the ferry and I’ll be fine. I’ll be eternally grateful, I’ll owe you a big favor. And I never do people favors.”
“The more you talk, the less I want to be stuck in a car with you for eight hours,” you said.
Dammit, his plan backfired. But he hadn’t missed the way you eyed the picture of him with his dad, Sarah and Wheezie in his wallet. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.
“Please? All flights are sold out and I’d really like to see my little sisters for Christmas,” he blinked his wide blue eyes, mustering up all the sincerity he could find.
Family was your weak spot, you wondered if Brody had told him that. As much as you truly did not want to get in this cramped, two-door car with him, you felt bad picturing the two little girls waiting patiently for their big brother to come home for Christmas. Ugh.
With a deep sigh, you finally said, “fine.”
Rafe slapped his hand on the car’s roof in celebration, reveling in his victory as he finally stepped away from your door.
“I’ll get you to the ferry and that’s it,” you qualified, trying to dampen his enthusiasm. “I need to be home by six, if I’m late you’re gonna owe me a lot more than a favor.”
He crossed his fingers over his heart solemnly, “scout’s honor!”
“You can throw your stuff in the backseat,” you instructed, your trunk already full to the brim with presents for your family.
“What, you got too much junk in your trunk?” He chuckled at his own joke as he jogged around to the passenger’s side.
You rolled your eyes hard as you climbed in the driver’s seat. This was gonna be the longest eight hours of your life.
Hour two
The heat in your car was cranked at full blast, but you were still shivering as you drove. This car was a hand-me-down from your dad, it got you back and forth to school, but left plenty to be desired in the way of amenities.
Based on the designer watch he was wearing and his Gatsby-esque reputation, you were pretty confident this was the least fancy car Rafe had ever been in.
“Sorry about the rattling,” you said, needlessly gesturing toward the dash, which shook steadily with the hum of the engine. “She’s a good car, but she’s got creaky bones.”
“It’s cool,” he shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of his coat pocket.
“I’m sure the G-wagons you’re used to don’t shake when you accelerate.”
Rafe popped a piece of gum in his mouth, snapping it obnoxiously between his teeth as he looked over at you, head cocked in observation.
“You don’t like me,” he surmised simply.
Your mouth fell open slightly, startled by how directly he clocked you, “I- I barely know you.”
“Then why do you roll your eyes everytime I open my mouth?”
“Maybe I just don’t like what you have to say.”
His eyes narrowed, considering this for a moment before deciding, “nah, I think it’s something else. Did we have a class together or something?”
“No, just a couple mutual friends,” you smiled the fakest of smiles.
“Yeah? Like who?”
“Girls you’ve ghosted mainly,” you said.
“Whaaat, me? Ghost someone? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he smirked.
“Yeah right,” you shook your head with an incredulous laugh that only widened his grin. “You know exactly what I mean, you ghost them and then you gaslight them that you were never a thing to begin with. We call it the Rafe Cameron special.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never done that,” he said.
“That’s such bullshit, this girl in my hall freshman year showed me all your texts, you totally gaslit her.”
“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.
You almost took the bait, mouth opened indignantly to argue again before you finally caught onto his game and the growing prideful smirk on his face. He was fucking with you.
You turned the music up, blocking him out as he chuckled under his breath in the seat next to you, ever so pleased with himself.
“Oh, c’mon, lighten up,” he tilted his body toward you, his long legs cramped in the small space of your front seat.
He placed his hand on the back of your headrest, his arm easily reaching the distance between you.
“It’s college, it’s not that serious. Everybody’s hooking up and breaking up. I mean, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of flings,” his eyes ran up and down your body with that final remark.
You stumbled over your response. You weren’t necessarily a shy person, but you didn’t walk around discussing your personal life as openly as he apparently does.
“I…can you stop looking at me like that please?”
“Looking at you like what?” He grinned, feigning innocence.
“Like you know me at all.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” he nodded. “Though I think I’ve pretty much figured you out.”
“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.
“Yeah, I mean, I have my guesses at least…”
“Please, share with the class,” you turned the radio down to better hear his absurdity, sure that he was full of shit.
“You were top of your class in high school, graduating with a…3.97 GPA,” he began. “You got in automatic acceptance to a bunch of state schools but you insisted on going to your reach, which thrilled your parents I’m sure. College isn’t as easy as high school, but you’ve settled around an A minus average final grade. You’re not in a sorority, I would’ve seen you at a mixer, but you’re definitely in some organized groups. Not sports, that’s not practical enough, it’s gotta be something where you can do some networking. Brody said you’re what, pre-med? So you’re probably in some kind of medical honors society. I bet you’ve had only one serious boyfriend, maybe a long distance high school sweetheart, but you’re too focused on school to make that work so you dumped his ass. A few hook ups since then, but nothing real. How am I doing?”
Your eyes were glued to the road, face gone ashen as he continued to nail correct guess after correct guess.
“My high school GPA was 3.98 actually,” you said weakly. “And I don’t like this game.”
Rafe had never been more smug, beaming triumphantly at your confirmation of all his assumptions.
“Don’t worry, I’m done playing,” he leaned forward to take off his coat, balling it up to use as a pillow so he could lean his head on the window. “Wake me up when at the next scheduled stop, will ya?”
“No promises,” you grumbled, making him smile as he drifted off to sleep.
Hour three
Bright red brake lights glowed in a line stretched out in front of you for a mile. You sighed deeply, your foot sore from holding down the brake for a full ten minutes. Resigned, you finally gave in and put the car in park, eyeing the clock on the dash anxiously.
Rafe snored. Loudly.
You shot him a bitter glare as he sat passed out in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the stop-and-go traffic jam you had gotten stuck in, enjoying his free ride and interrupting your music with his loud snores. Out of spite, you leaned forward and turned up the radio until your music was practically blaring through the speakers.
Somehow, like even in his sleep he knew how to push your buttons, he started snoring louder. You turned the music up as high as it would go, singing along at the top of your lungs until he finally started stirring, eyes blinking open. You quickly turned down the music, stifling a laugh at the confused, grumpy look on his face.
“We’re not moving,” he mumbled, groggily taking in your surroundings.
“You have great observational skills,” you teased him.
“You didn’t think to account for traffic on your little itinerary?” He said smugly.
“I did,” you defended yourself, “just not until we passed through DC. This part of I-95 isn’t usually so packed.”
Rafe sat up in his seat, not having much room to stretch out his legs but trying anyway. He watched the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, nervously tapping your hands on the steering wheel.
“So what’s happening at six o’clock?” He asked, trying to pull you from your anxious thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Before we left, you said you had to be home at six. What’s at six?”
“Oh, uh, it’s kind of silly actually, you wouldn’t get it,” you sat back in your seat, finally accepting that the car in front of you wasn’t moving anytime soon.
“Try me,” he said.
You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to share and risk his getting his rude opinion on something so special to you. But you were hungry, and tired, and stressed, and honestly, after a few too many hours in his charismatic orbit, you were looking for more reasons not to like him.
“It’s because of cookies,” you admitted.
“Cookies?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to maintain his non-judgemental stance.
“My mom makes these gingerbread cookies that are literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. They’re so good, she makes them every christmas, but she only makes one batch. It’s an old family recipe her mom left her when she passed away and my mom said she isn’t supposed to give it to me until she’s…gone…”
You paused to swallow hard, like there were more words fighting their way out. Feeling a little too vulnerable with Rafe’s eyes on you, you pushed them back down.
“…anyway, I have three younger brothers, and they get home from their practices at six. The second they walk in the door, they’ll attack those cookies and there won’t be any left for me. So I need to get home before them or I’ll have to wait a whole year for more cookies.”
You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he decided whether or not he was gonna tease you.
Finally he landed on, “gingerbread, really? They can’t possibly be that good.”
“Oh no, believe me they really are. I’m not usually into gingerbread either but these are seriously the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
Rafe’s eyebrows shot up, smirking at you from his side of the car. It took a second for you to hear your own double entenadre.
“Oh shut up,” you laughed, reaching over to swat his arm.
“I didn’t say anything!” He pretended to wince, rubbing the spot on his arm you’d hit dramatically. You flexed your hand, surprised that it stung a little, his arm firmer than you were expecting.
“You question the cookies and then you mock me,” you shook your head. “I should make you get out and walk the rest of the way.”
“No, no!” He chuckled. “I would never question the cookies. I’m sure they’re delicious. Don’t make me walk.”
You zeroed your eyes in on him, “fine. You're safe. For now.”
He wiped his forehead playfully, mouthing a silent ‘phew!’
After a few minutes, traffic started moving again, though painfully slowly. Rafe was drumming along to the radio on the dashboard, growing more impatient by the second. His fidgeting reminded you of a bored toddler.
“Why can’t you mom just make more cookies?” He blurted out.
Your grip tightened on the wheel as sudden brake lights ahead of you forced you to slam on your own brake yet again. This was the direction you were hoping the conversation wouldn’t head in.
“She, uh…she just makes the one batch,” you tried to shrug the question off, but he was too busy tapping away and shifting in his seat to notice your growing discomfort.
“I mean how long can it take? A couple hours maybe? I bet she could just -”
“She just can’t, okay?” You snapped, your growing irritation with the traffic jam making the words come out a little sharper than you’d intended. You took a deep breath when his eyes snapped toward you, “sorry. She just…she can only make one.”
Rafe nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he returned his attention to his phone, typing rapidly.
“Alright then, take the next exit,” he said.
“What?”
“In a half mile on the right, take that exit,” he repeated.
“Why?” you asked.
“I found a faster route,” he explained. “Let’s get you those cookies.”
Hour four
Rafe was right, the alternate route he found for you had caught you up to schedule, even putting you about twenty miles ahead of where you expected to be by this point.
With the made up time, Rafe finally convinced you to stop for food, and, after several minutes of arguing, to let him drive the next stretch.
It was amazing how much your mood improved with some food in your system. Now that you weren’t the one behind the wheel, it was you shuffling restlessly in the seat, unfolding and refolding your schedule and refreshing the GPS on your phone every couple of minutes.
“In one hundred and twenty two miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and twenty miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and nineteen miles-“
“Veer left! It’s gonna keep saying the same thing every time, you really don’t need to keep refreshing it,” Rafe grunted.
You shot him a glare, making a show of turning your phone off and tucking it in your pocket.
“Remind me why you couldn’t just drive yourself?” You snarled. “What, is the Beamer in the shop?”
“It’s a Range Rover, actually,” he corrected you, pulling forth yet another eye roll from you as you mumbled ‘of course it is.’ “And yes, actually, it is.”
“Ah, you pimping your ride?”
He snorted, “what is it 2005? No, I, uh, totaled it, actually.”
“I knew I shouldn’t let you drive,” you winced, grabbing the handle above the passenger door theatrically.
“Relax, it wasn’t my fault,” he assured you.
“Let me guess, the other driver was so blinded by your dazzling smile that they crashed right into you?”
“There was no other driver,” he said, smirking with a sidelong glance in your direction. “Glad to know you think my smile is that powerful though.”
You regretted your word choice immediately, your brain was working so fast to deflect his charm you had lost the plot a bit. You scrambled to put the focus back on him so he wouldn’t see the way you were blushing.
“Okay so what’s the story then?” You asked.
“It’s really not that interesting. I was driving around campus and there was something in the street, I swerved and hit a tree, that’s it,” he reached to turn the radio a little louder, your eyes narrowing at the avoidant tone he’d adopted.
“You saw ‘something?’ What ‘something’ did you see?” You pressed, amused by his discomfort.
“Just, uhm, an animal in the road,” he said dismissively.
You nodded, a little “ah” leaving your lips as you returned your gaze to the window. You tapped your fingers on your thigh to the beat of the song. You wanted to know more, he knew you wanted to know more. The tension broke quick.
“What kind of animal was -”
“Ohhh my god, you’re so nosy, it was-“ he cut himself off momentarily to lower his voice, “it was a bunny alright?”
Your laugh was immediate and loud, head falling back at the image he’d conjured for you.
“Alright, it’s not that funny but whatever,” he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the little curve of his lips at the pretty sound of your unguarded giggles.
“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said between laughs, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “it’s not funny. It’s nice. You crashed your Range Rover trying to save a little rabbit. I just didn’t expect Rafe Cameron to break for bunnies, it’s very cute.”
Rafe never got flustered, he practically majored in flirting, it never phased him. So why the fuck was he blushing like a little kid right now?
Get your shit together, Cameron, he thought, she’s just some girl.
“So you and Brody, y’all sleeping together or...?”
Your laughter stopped dead in its tracks, head snapping towards him as your jaw slammed shut.
Pointedly not answering him, you grabbed your Coke from the cupholder and took a long sip.
“Is that a yes?” he continued.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” you cut him off, fiddling with the straw, “but no, we’re just old friends.”
Long gone was the playful air of the bunny story. Unable to recover and get a positive reaction from you, he figured he might as well dig himself deeper. In for a penny…
“But, c’mon, you’re saying you two have seriously never…”
“Ew no, he’s literally like my brother,” you shut him down. “Why do you care so much? You jealous?”
Fuck, he hadn’t meant to give you the upper ground, he needed to level the field.
“You just seemed pretty upset when you found out he wasn’t coming is all. Like, I dunno, a woman scorned and all that…”
“Have you considered it’s because I realized I was gonna be stuck in a car alone with you for eight hours?”
Thoroughly pissed off, you sank down in your seat and continued sipping your Coke, avoiding looking at him by counting the mile markers on the side of the highway.
Rafe looked over at you, taking in the flex of your jaw as you stewed. He usually didn’t give a fuck if his words offended people. He preferred it, actually. But something about the shape of your smile and the sound of your laughter made him wish you were always happy. He felt like shit for making it go away, then he felt like shit for feeling like shit given his decision not to like you.
His eyes stayed on you for longer than they should, studying the shape of your silhouette in the soft light of the December sun.
“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.
Rafe’s eyes shot forward and he realized with panic that he’d been veering off the road, the front of the car dangerously skewed in the direction of the metal guard rail.
“Fuck!”
He cut the wheel hard, overshooting his correction and causing the car to jerk sharply to the left. In your concern, you gripped your drink so hard the lid came off, your ice cold diet coke splashing out of the cup and all over you.
Rafe redirected the car until it was back in the correct lane, but you were already covered in diet soda. Coke dripped from your hair onto your face, your mouth hung wide open in shock and fury.
“Shit, my bad,” Rafe said, reaching in the fast food bag for some napkins.
He started dabbing it completely unhelpfully at your shoulder and you ripped the napkin from his hands.
“This is my favorite shirt, ugh what the fuck Rafe!” You scolded him, trying to use the napkins with very little luck, the shirt was definitely ruined.
“I said I’m sorry! Jesus calm down, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” he huffed at you, hating that he liked how you said his name, even when you were yelling at him.
“No of course not, you never do anything on purpose,” you quipped.
It took everything in him not to snap back with a “you don’t even fucking know me,” but he remained silent. Biting his tongue was a new taste to him, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t like the feeling of you being pissed at him either. Today was a day of firsts.
“We’re gonna have to stop so I can get a new shirt from the trunk,” you said.
Eager to return to familiar territory, he jumped at the opportunity to antagonize you, shaking his head and tsking condescendingly, “no can do, there’s no stops on the schedule for an hour.”
“Okay well this is obviously an extenuating circumstance,” you argued.
“So was me wanting to stop at that outlet mall to get presents for my family, but we didn’t stop then,” he countered.
“Right, because those things are comparable,” you scoffed. “It’s not my fault you waited until the last second to do your Christmas shopping.”
You were right, but he still resented the know-it-all tone in your accusation.
“Well I’m the driver and I say we’re sticking to the schedule,” he doubled down.
“So I’m just supposed to sit here covered in soft drink for the rest of the trip?”
“I have an old sweatshirt in my bag you can borrow,” he offered.
The urge to continue fighting with him until he agreed to pull over was strong, but the urge to get out of the cold, sticky shirt was stronger. With a sigh, you climbed into the backseat and dug through Rafe’s bag until you found a soft, worn out hoodie with a logo on the front that said “Kildare Academy Lacrosse” and on the back “Cameron #44.”
You reached down to peel off your shirt, looking up first to catch Rafe watching you through the rear view mirror. Your hands paused on the hem, giving him a steely look.
“Uh, a little privacy please?”
His eyes continued flicking between you and the road, “I just wanna see if you found the right sweatshirt,” he claimed.
You let out an indignant tsk, mouth open in disbelief when he gave you a little wink through the mirror. You reached forward and smushed your hand into his cheek, pushing his head back toward the road. He bit his bottom lip, trying to play nonchalant as you stripped off your shirt just inches behind him. He might act like a playboy, but he did actually have enough respect not to look at you while you changed.
Still, keeping his eyes on the road meant seeing the fuzzy form of you in his peripheral vision. The general hue of your skin tone and the swift movement of you pulling your shirt over your head sucked some of the air from his usually puffed-out chest. He felt like he was twelve years old, the way just the thought of you shirtless in the backseat made his hands clammy and his heart pick up speed. He needed to get a grip.
The sweatshirt was about two sizes too big but so warm and comfortable you didn’t care. You expected it to smell like some cheap cologne or boy sweat, but instead it smelled like something sweet and inviting - fabric softener, you realized with a grin. You’d tease him for that later.
Hour five
Somewhere in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, your gas light came on. You agreed to let him drive for another fifty miles after a quick gas station pit stop, planning to take the allotted thirty minute nap you’d mapped out on your schedule before driving the rest of the way.
Rafe paid for the gas, as promised, and stood by the car as he filled your tank. You never did get to finish your Diet Coke, so you ran inside to grab another while he pumped.
“That’ll be $2.79, dear,” the cashier told you, her southern accent and charm a tell-tale sign that you were nearing home.
With a smile, you pulled out your debit card and held it out for her to swipe.
“Sorry sweetheart, there’s a five dollar minimum for cards,” she informed you politely.
“Oh, okay,” you looked around the counter for something to add, swiping some knick-knacks from their display to round up your bill.
----❄----
The car door slammed as Rafe climbed back in next to you, balling up the receipt for the gas and tossing it into the backseat.
“How much was it?” You asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, turning the key as the engine sputtered to life.
You shouldn’t feel bad, he offered to pay, and you were technically the one doing him a favor. Still, you were raised by blue collar parents, ‘neither a borrower nor a lender be’ and elbow grease was gospel in your home. You felt like you needed to give him something.
“Here,” you passed him the bag of trinkets you’d bought inside.
Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.
“What am I supposed to do with these?” He laughed as he pulled the items out of the bag.
“You could…give them to your sisters,” you suggested.
“What are they gonna do with a Thomas Jefferson snow globe and a bumper sticker that says ‘Virginia is for Lovers’?”
“Well it’s better than a slip of paper that says ‘IOU one christmas present,’” You teased him.
“Y’know what? Very true,” he nodded, tucking the bag of goodies in the backseat and pulling out of the gas station.
The drive was silent for a few minutes. You leaned forward, resting your arms on the dash as you watched the emerging silhouette of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the far horizon. It was all getting so close; a crackling fire, drinking hot cocoa while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with your brothers, decorating the tree, those gingerbread cookies…
“What are you smiling about?” Rafe’s voice interrupted your revelry.
“I’m just excited to get home and see my family,” you said with a happy smile. “Aren’t you?”
It was such a foreign concept to him he almost laughed. He was still playing the angle that he was desperate to get home to his family so you’d give him a ride. He couldn’t tell you the truth; that he wasn’t sure anyone at his house even remembered he was coming, that Christmases in the Cameron house for the last decade were more about the pictures his father could put on the cards he sent to clients than they were about celebrating, or love.
“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” he said, hoping you’d drop it.
You didn’t.
“Does your family have any traditions?”
“Like what?” He knew what you meant, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie, the truth sitting on his chest in the uncomfortable way he spent his life trying to avoid.
“Like, okay,” you started. “Me and my brothers always sleep in the living room on Christmas Eve. We get all the pillows and blankets in the house and make a big pile in front of the fireplace and keep the fire going all night so we can stay up to try and catch Santa.”
“How’s he gonna come down the chimney if you keep the fire going?” Rafe questioned logically.
“Oh Rafe, I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this…but Santa isn’t real,” you placed your hand on his arm like you were trying to console him.
He let it linger for a minute before shaking you off, “you know what I meant!” he grumbled, making you laugh. The sound was so sweet it made him dizzy.
“What else do you do?” He asked impulsively, surprising both you and himself with his desire to hear you keep talking.
“Well, you know about my mom’s cookies, and we always drink cocoa with peppermint sticks, and oh! Me and my dad used to cut down a real tree together the day after Thanksgiving- I’m sure they’ve already gotten it this year since I wasn’t home- but we’d always decorate it together, just the two of us, while listening to his old Bing Crosby vinyl.”
It sounded so nice, so idyllic and comforting, like a Hallmark card. Jealousy roared in his chest, hoping you couldn’t see it on his face as he pictured the much colder, tension filled holiday that was awaiting him.
“Didn’t Bing Crosby used to hit his kids?” He blurted out coldly, the holly jolly joy in the car becoming a little too much for him to handle.
Your face soured, lips twisted as he burst your bubble.
“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you mumbled. Even when he was being an ass, you were being cute. It was killing him. “Not a Christmas guy, huh?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be napping right now?” He brushed off your question.
“I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t drive so grumpy.”
“I’ll be fine. Your thirty minutes is slipping away, though.”
“Okay fine, but don’t forget to wake me up when we cross the state line,” you reminded him.
“I know, I know. Are you always this bossy?” He snipped, his sudden coldness making you wish you’d never opened up to him about your family to begin with.
With a final, pointed look at him, you pulled the strings of his sweatshirt to cover your eyes and sank down into the seat.
“Bah humbug,” you threw at him before drifting off to sleep.
Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice.
Hour six
In your dream, you sat alone at your kitchen table, your dad’s Bing Crosby vinyl skipped on the record player as you cried over an empty plate, not a single crumb of gingerbread left…
Hour seven
The world was moving outside the windows, the early darkness of winter making the scene blurry, but you could tell the car was definitely still moving.
And Rafe was out cold in the driver’s seat.
“Oh my god!!”
You shot up in your seat and grabbed the wheel, sure that you were about to go flying off the road any second. But the wheel was locked, and there was no engine’s rumble shaking the dash. The car was off.
You blinked, your groggy mind finally catching up with reality. You weren’t driving, you were floating. The choppy ocean crashing against the side of the ship spraying little droplets of water on your windshield.
“Oh my god,” you repeated with a groan, this time less panicked and more pissed.
Rafe woke up with your body stretched across his lap, gripping the wheel as you groaned.
“Hi,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile, completely misreading the situation.
You sat back in your own seat and hit him on the shoulder, hard.
“Oww, what the hell?” He sat up, rubbing his arm.
“Where the fuck are we?” You barked at him.
“We’re in your car on the way home,” he avoided the true answer.
“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”
“And would ya look at that? You did!” He smiled sheepishly.
With scarily accurate comedic timing, the ship’s horn blared loudly, leaving no doubt.
“Rafe, we’re on the ferry!” You yelled, smacking him again.
“Would you stop hitting me please?! We were making good time and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I figured we’d just hop the ferry real quick and you’ll still make it home by six.”
You checked the time on your phone, eyes widening with realization.
“Just barely! At this rate I’ll be walking in the door at 5:58,” you argued.
“And just think of how many cookies you can eat in two minutes if you really put your mind to it,” he grinned at you. You were having none of his boyish charm this time, back to being a card carrying member of the “I Hate Rafe Cameron” club.
“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.
“Okay, well can it wait until we’re on dry land? I get seasick and I want it to be a fair fight.”
He wasn’t letting up on the flirting, and you weren’t giving in. The rest of the boat ride was painfully quiet.
----❄----
“It’s just up here on the right, that metal gate,” he assured you as he approached his home, still trying to convince you that you had plenty of time.
Headlights bounced off the high white walls of his estate as the car pulled up. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.
“What is it?” He questioned.
“I knew you were probably rich, y’know based on your whole…” you gestured vaguely to him, “...thing. But holy shit.”
He grinned, “yeah it’s alright I guess.”
“Oh whatever,” you laughed. “It’s like a fucking castle!”
With a final left turn, he pulled into Tannyhill, the giant house completely dark at the end of the long drive. Rafe’s face fell slightly as he drove up, but he pushed the disappointment down when he felt your eyes on him.
“Home sweet home,” he said, feigning holiday cheer.
He put the car in park and grabbed his stuff from the backseat. You both got out, stopping in front of the car so he could hand you the keys.
“I should change so you can have your sweatshirt back,” you said.
“Nah you can give it back to me at school, I’ve delayed your schedule long enough.”
You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.
It was strange, you felt like you’d known him much longer than eight hours and yet you weren’t quite friends…you weren’t enemies either, but definitely not friends. How is one supposed to say goodbye to a non-enemy/non-friend? You settled on holding out your hand to shake. Rafe just looked down at your palm, huffing a laugh at the gesture.
“Well,” you shrugged, smiling back, “Merry Christmas I guess?”
He took your hand, giving it a firm shake and a squeeze, “yeah, Merry Christmas I guess.”
With a nod, you stepped around him and got back into your car, pulling up your GPS and entering your home address. So long as the ferry was still running on schedule and there wasn’t too much traffic, you’d get home with about five minutes to spare.
You put the car in reverse and got ready to back out of the driveway. You tried to keep your eyes fixed on the rearview, but you couldn’t help but steal one last look at Rafe as he walked through his front door.
Only, he wasn’t going inside. Or maybe he couldn’t go inside? He stood at the front door shaking the handle and having a very animated conversation with someone on his phone. Something wasn’t right.
Even though you knew you shouldn’t, you cracked your window slightly to hear the phone call. His back still turned to you, Rafe didn’t notice you could hear him and kept talking, loudly…
“The Bahamas? Are you kidding me?...I can’t believe you guys just left without me...well I wasn’t and then I got a ride…this could’ve been avoided if you’d just sent the jet like I asked…since when are you concerned about that?...well what the hell am I supposed to do now?!”
The last question was said with a raised voice, aggression seeping into his tone. He made like he was about to say something else, but was cut-off, his shoulders falling as the voice on the other end got so loud that it carried all the way to your car. You couldn’t make out the words, but whoever he was talking to was clearly shouting even louder than Rafe had just been.
“Y-yes sir…I’m sorry…yes sir…no sir…okay I will…I lo-”
The phone beeped three times and the screen went black. Rafe stared down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket and lifting a rock close to the door, retrieving a small silver key. As he raised it to the doorknob, his eyes caught yours in the reflection of the glass.
“You should get going,” he said, turning and noticing your window cracked. “You’re gonna miss your cookies.”
Fully busted for eavesdropping, you rolled the window the rest of the way down, “did they…are they not home?”
“Nah, they decided to spend Christmas in the Bahamas,” he explained.
“Oh. So you’re just gonna be here, like, alone?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m not a Christmas guy anyway, remember?” He gave you a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Are-are you sure? You could…” You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it. Were you really gonna offer for him to come home with you? You barely knew him, surely you couldn’t bring him home for Christmas.
The offer fell dead on your lips, but Rafe knew where you were going with it, the pity in your voice a little too much for his pride.
“I’m really fine,” he said, nodding his head toward the road, “you should get back on the road. You’ve got a schedule to keep”
You gave him a soft smile as you put the car back into reverse, feeling guilty the whole way out of the driveway.
----❄----
Turning the Christmas radio station up, you tried to focus on gingerbread cookies as you waited in the long car line to get back on the ferry.
He wasn’t your friend, in fact, he was kind of an asshole to you all day. You didn’t owe him anything. Plus, he surely wouldn’t be comfortable at your little house in the country. Not when he was used to all the flash of this island, the one his family seemingly owned based on all the signs with their name on it you passed on your short drive. No, he’d be fine. You’d get your cookies and he’d be fine.
“Ma’am,” the Ferry ticketing attendant tapped on your window to get your attention.
You sighed deeply as you looked at the big ship, then down to your GPS, telling you there was only a minute to spare if you were gonna get home on time.
Home. Yours, warm and full of love. His, empty and dark.
“We’ve got a schedule to keep,” the attendant urged. “Are you boarding or not?”
----❄----
The house was still dark but for one light glowing through an upstairs window.
You knocked three times, Rafe’s confused face finally appearing behind the glass. He opened the door with a questioning furrow of his brow. His bag was still packed, sitting right inside the door. You reached down to grab it, throwing it over your shoulder as you said,
“You owe me a cookie.”
(part two)
a/n: merry everything! I had so much fun writing this! There will be 3 more parts, just a lil present from me to you <3 there will be some hurt, but mostly comfort and a stocking full of fluff!
for updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs. to be tagged, just ask in the replies or send me an ask!
taglist: @itneverendshere @rafediaries @promiscuousg1rl @eolsens @inlovewrafe
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x yn#rafe#rafe fic#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron smut#rafe obx#obx fic#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron au#college au#frat!rafe#frat!rafe cameron#frat rafe cameron#christmas fic#holiday fic
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Sunbathing
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: you’ve decided to sunbathe topless, or as your husband Joel would put it, you’ve decided to torture him.
Warnings: needy Joel, kind of sub!joel, unprotected p in v, premature ejaculation, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), come play.
a/n: i sunbathed topless for the first time and well this wrote itself
"You've seen my boobs before babe" A soft laugh bubbled up your throat as you turned your head left.
He wasn't even pretending not to be staring.
"Not like this"
You smiled, "what does that even mean?"
"not out... here"
You lowered your sunglasses to see him better, tilting your head to ask for further explanation
Yes you were outside, by the pool of the beautiful summer house you'd rented, but you didn't get how that made any difference, they were the same boobs he'd seen hours prior in your bed.
"I'm not used to not doing anything about them"
"ah" you hummed "is it that hard?"
You didn't even need to look at the smirk painting his face to regret your choice of words.
"yeah babydoll, it's real hard"
You only needed to lower your gaze a little to asses his statement.
"You're incorrigible"
"And you're torturin' me darlin'"
"How am I torturing you?" you laughed "I'm just taking advantage of the privacy we have to get a good tan"
"and besides, I seem to remember how hard it is for you to see me with the whole bikini on too"
He sat up, the sunbed squeaking as he faced you.
"It ain't my fault if my wife's so pretty it hurts"
"you get so dramatic when you're horny" you chuckled, rolling your eyes.
He smiled, letting his gaze wander all over your body for a good minute, before getting back at your face
"nothin's gonna happen is it?" his tone was full of hope nonetheless
"no baby" you shook your head
He sighed, dramatically letting his head fall to his chest
"I'll have a swim then"
"have fun honey"
__ __ __
"darlin'?"
Not even ten minutes had passed, and that scene from the Barbie movie with the "Ken! Go for a walk or something" line couldn't not pop into your head.
"yes?"
He was standing right next to your sunbed, dripping wet and blocking out the sun.
"don't ya need sunscreen?"
A soft smile pulled at your lips.
Ten minutes, that's how long it took for him to come up with that.
"I put it on already"
He wasn't gonna give up, not on the first try.
"how long ago?"
"an hour, I think"
"the sun's real strong now doll," he said, drying his hair with a towel before throwing it on his bed "I think it's best if you put some more on… I can do it for you if you don't feel like it"
You chuckled, looking up at him, but he stayed in character, continuing to look oh-so worried about your safety.
"Somehow I knew that offer was coming"
"'m just worried about my wife, 's all"
he'd crouched down, taking your hand in his
"mh-mh" you hummed, sarcasm tracing your tone
"can't have you get sunburt now, can we?"
"no, we can't" you played along, smiling at him
"'f course" he murmured, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on your lips as he grabbed the sunscreen.
"I'm so lucky to have such a caring husband"
"I'm the only lucky one babydoll"
He gave you one more kiss, before he leaned away and got to work.
He squeezed some cream into his hand, but to your surprise, his hands didn't land where you'd expected them to-
Only his eyes were betraying him. They were only on one, or actually two things even when it was your legs he was massaging.
The coldness of the cream and his hands felt good against your warm body, so much you couldn't help but hum appreciatively.
"feels good?"
"yeah baby" you breathed as his hands made their way to your thighs.
It always amazed you how hands so big, rough, and strong were able to be so gentle and soft on you.
You couldn't deny the shivers running up your body when his fingers reached your inner thighs, getting close to your core.
"what's that?" your husband was smirking like a cat, as he dedicated himself much too long on that spot.
"I didn't say anything"
If he thought this was gonna work, he was wrong. It was too hot, and you were too relaxed to do what he so obviously wanted to do... although you both knew how much you liked seeing him desperate...
He still didn't touch your boobs, no, next were your shoulders, then your arms, and then... when he felt on the brink of exploding, when he couldn't stop himself anymore, he squeezed a generous amount of sunscreen in his hands, and oh so gently started massaging your tits.
He couldn't stop a soft groan from fleeing his lips.
It felt amazing- of course it felt amazing, but you didn't wanna give him the satisfaction, and this was mostly for him, not for you, so your eyes remained closed as you pretended like it was nothing.
But that only lasted so long, because Joel could endure just about 30 seconds of that before he was bending down, and his mouth was sucking your nipple.
"Joel!" you gasped, your eyes snapping open just in time to see him climb onto you to straddle your waist, and then go right back to groping and licking and sucking your nipples like it was his life long duty.
"baby you're all wet" you tried complaining, but the smile on your lips was everlasting.
He looked so damingly cute like this, looking up at you with those big doe eyes as he worshipped your tits.
"so are you"
And yeah so what if you were- there's only so much a woman can do in front of this.
A soft laugh spilled from your lips as your hand went to find a place in his hair, your back arching to offer more of yourself to him.
"I don't even know how good it is for you to be licking sunscreen"
The look he gave you made it very clear he didn't give one single fuck.
And just when you were about to protest again, his teeth had gently bit your nipple, and a moan had spilled from your lips.
he took that as an incentive to go further, his hand slowly sliding down your belly, between your bodies, until it was seeping underneath your bikini bottoms.
"babe-" you stopped him, your voice breathless
His hand stopped on your mound as he groaned in frustration.
You could feel his rock-hard cock on you since the moment he straddled you- the man was desperate.
"please doll" he murmured against the soft skin of your chest in between kisses "Gimmie something-anything” he pleaded “Have mercy on your poor husband"
Your response was mixed between a laugh and a moan
"I can take care of you if you want"
He shook his head, his teeth grazing your nipple "Need to feel you darlin’"
Again, a soft giggle rumbled from your chest
"’S too hot to have sex here baby"
His hand had gotten out of your bikini to reach the other on your waist.
"the pool- the ground? fuck- anywhere you want sugar, just tell me where"
His clothed hard-on was rubbing against your core now, and fuck but once again you’d succumbed to Joel and his goddamn irresistible neediness.
"bring me back into the house"
It was like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear those words.
In a haze of kisses and lust, he’d picked you up, letting you hold onto him by wrapping your arms and legs around his body as he hurriedly walked into the house.
He didn’t make it far enough to encounter a single surface- and perhaps that was because he’d stopped looking and placed you against the wall the moment he’d passed the threshold.
His mouth was on your tits again, his cock was out, and his fingers had pulled your bikini to the side.
He said nothing as he slowly began entering you, the only sounds in the room being your moan as you threw your head back, and the groan he emitted, muffled by your skin.
“Oh fuck” you cried once he bottomed out.
Your husband was a very gifted man.
"'m not gonna last"
He sounded like the mere act of talking was taking all of his energy, and yet he was thrusting up into you like it was a matter of life or death.
"'s ok"
"I've been hard since you took your top off" he murmured, his breath fanning over your chest “you-you-jesus”
Your left hand passed through his hair, softly soothing him.
“‘S alright baby, don’t wait for me”
“You’re too fuckin’-” he tried to speak, but he was interrupted by yet another groan
“What?” you taunted him, a smirk pulling at your lips “what is it baby?”
His eyes were wide with desperation as he looked up at you, as his mouth stole languid kisses from your tits.
“Too hot- too goddamn perfect”
You bit down a grin at that, still stroking his hair
“I love you baby” you breathed, his cock reaching the deepest, most fucking amazing spot inside you in the meantime.
The moment those words left your lips your husband was fucked- the only words he was able to mutter were a series of -fuckshitgoddamn- before he inevitably reached his peak, filling you up with rope after rope of come that never seemed to end.
He remained like that for a little while, buried inside you, eyes closed, mouth still connected with your boob, until you left a gentle kiss on the crown of his head, and he woke up from his heavenly trance.
He let out a soft groan as he slipped out of you, and took his time letting you down.
You were smiling at him with that soft smile that melted his insides right up, and he couldn’t help but lean in and kiss it, kiss you like you were a soft delicate thing that he was scared of breaking.
“I love you more” he promised, kissing you again, even if you were smiling.
“Feel better now?”
You said it like he was a kid with a stomach bug, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little.
“Yeah darlin’” he murmured against your mouth “thank you”
“You don’t have to thank me” you laughed, but he was already shaking his head
“Yes I do”
And without further explanation, he’d dropped to his knees.
He slid your bikini to the side once again, looking up at you with only adoration in his eyes.
“Baby you don’t have to” you tried to reason with him, but his mouth was already latched to your clit, and your hand had already flown to his hair.
He remained on your bud long enough to make you desperate, and then he started focusing on your whole core, his tongue lapping between your folds with what could only be described as feral hunger.
His come was everywhere, and yet he didn’t care, he was happy tasting the mix of your fluids, because that’s how Joel was- a nasty nasty man- only for you.
So much so that you felt his tongue enter your hole, simulating what he was doing just minutes before with his cock.
“Fuck-babe-”
Your moans were breathless, more like whines, like prayers.
You were looking at him as he was looking at you and Jesus... He looked fucking heavenly.
His hair all tussled from your fingers, his blown-out pupils, his never-stopping tongue-
“Joel” you cried, but he didn’t dare speak a word as he went back to your clit.
“Shit-baby- god!”
You had to tighten your hold on his hair as your orgasm crept up your body- and it was as you heard him groan with pleasure, as he sucked your clit into his mouth like a man starved, that it all came crumbling down, and you felt your body light on fire as your climax took over.
You were moaning and crying into the air for a good minute before you were sane again.
Only Joel hadn’t stopped eating you out for a single second, and even then, he looked like he had no intention of doing so
“Baby-baby” you whimpered, having to literally pull him away from your core.
He was smiling like a kid, and you couldn’t help but follow suit.
He put your bikini back in place, and then stood up, his hands lingering on your waist
“You’re crazy”
He couldn’t help but kiss you before answering,
“You make me”
#i wrote most of this on the train next to this cute old woman with whom I talked the whole way back home#it was a very wholesome trip tbh#if you ignore me writing smut while she tells me about her niece#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#fluff#joel miller imagine#joel miller blurb#joel miller angst#fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo#joel miller x f!reader#sub!Joel#sub joel miller
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❝ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 ? ❞
❝ THE SHIBUYA INCIDENT? MORE LIKE THE SHIBARI INCIDENT ! ❞
✧ summary: they got too touchy, so you tied them up! (anon request)
✧ pairings: s. gojo, s. geto, k. nanami, t. fushiguro, r. sukuna, c. kamo
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, tying up (m! receiving), overstimulation (gojo, nanami, choso), multiple orgasms, sub! gojo, choso, switch! geto, toji, nanami, oral (f! receiving) (toji), oral (m! receiving) (nanami), riding (gojo), face riding (toji), shibari (choso), true form sukuna, stomach mouth for sukuna makes an appearance, art by @ / innaillus
✧ w/c: 6,212
SATORU GOJO
“You have no one to blame but yourself, Toru,” you bounced slowly on his cock, twitching in your folds as if it could get deeper if only you would let him.
(You wouldn’t).
“I warned you that I’d tie you up if you kept teasing me all night,” your fingers trace the rope around his wrists, before sliding them up to behind his back, “and what did you do?”
“you tested me baby,” you lean closer, letting your pert nipples draw close to his lips, but still just out of reach, letting him sink down to the hilt. a whimper leaves his throat, muffled against your soaked panties shoved in his mouth, “but you’re so good now, when you’re like this,” your fingers card through his hair, before tugging hard on the silky strands and you feel him twitch deep inside your drenched folds.
His sky blue eyes are glassy, pretty tears pooling, as your lips press sweet kisses to his jaw, and he mumbles something against the fabric that sounds like ‘please’ and you’re smiling that lovely smile that he had been kissing only a few minutes before.
“Begging already? Didn’t know my pussy felt that good,” and you lift yourself up, so only his tip remains inside your warm folds before slamming down, making his head loll back, a muffled grunt making your walls clench, “you’re too fucking big, Toru,” you slide your hand down your stomach, “think you’re actually fucking my guts now,” and his eyes watch as your fingers ghost over the slight bulge his dick makes inside you, “knew you were the strongest, but I didn’t think you meant in bed too,”
Another whine is pulled from his throat, and you take pity on him, pulling the fabric from his mouth, drenched in your precum and his saliva. His pants are nearly enough to make you cum from the sound of it, the sounds that left his lips were yours and yours alone - because he may be the strongest, but he was yours all the same.
“What do you need?” You’re bouncing on his cock slowly, slower even now that you can clearly hear the whines leaving his throat, his engorged tip kissing your womb, “use your words, and maybe I’ll let you have it,”
“Please, baby, wanna cum in your princess cunt,” he whines, music to your ears, and only your ears — because only he would be such a mess for you, “wanna fill you up, feel you cum around me,”
“I’ll let you cum,” and he blinks up at you, a tear slipping down his cheek, “if you beg for it,” He whimpers, a pathetic noise that only makes your insides twitch, “you asked for this, you love it when I do this, maybe I should suck you off the next time you have a meeting with the higher ups — imagine their horror if they walked in on us like that, but you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
You slam down on him, his head falling back, but you’re pulling him back into a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth and moans, “is this cunt that good for you, baby? Tell me how good it is,”
“S-so, good, fuck—“ and you know he’s close, from the way he’s keening and whining, the way his fat tip twitches against your cervix, and the way his pretty eyes glaze over from a clear cerulean to a cloudy blue. But you’re not far off either — the way his cock kisses every inch of you, bullying your sopping cunt open — it’s not gonna be much longer, “I’m—“
And you’re nodding, “Cum, fill me up, Toru, want you to fuck your cum inside me,” and that’s all it takes.
He cums, spurts of thick cum gushing inside your sloppy pussy, as you continue to ride him through his orgasm, until his tip finds that one spot that has you following him over the edge, cumming hard.
You’re panting, as you continue to ride him — bouncing again and again, until your knees give out, pleasure curling your toes, and flooding your body — just as his seed did.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Satoru looks up at you, fucked out gaze and smile on his lips, “didn’t know you could top me like that, otherwise, I would have had you done it a long time ago,”
“Shoulda known you of all people would like to get topped,” and he’s raising an eyebrow, before his cock twitches inside you, “already ready for round two—“
You squeak as he flips you over, the rope formerly holding him in hand, “wha—how?”
“Y’know as much as I liked you tying me up,” he pins your arms with one hand, and winding the rope with the other — not too toght, but enough that it burns into your skin, “think you’d look even prettier than I did.”
SUGURU GETO
“Fuck, Suguru, you look so good like this,”
And he did — especially handcuffed to your headboard— vulnerability suited Suguru Geto well — something reserved for you and only you. And something you definitely earned after all the games he had played with you all night long. Orgasm after orgasm pulled from you with a few fingers and laps of his tongue, until you fell apart under him, with nothing more than his smirk as your reward (aside from pleasure of course).
And you knew Suguru preferred your pleasure over your own — punishingly so, as he loved nothing more than to see you fall apart into a crying mess under his touch — fat tears and begging that only made him ready to cum in his boxers untouched.
But you were tired of not touching.
“We can agree to disagree, Princess,” he says through gritted teeth, as the clink of the handcuffs draws a small smile to your lips, “I think you’d look much prettier like this for me,” and the last word is more of a gasp, as you thumb his weeping tip, “fuck—”
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” and he glowers at you, a deep violet so dark it’s almost black with the way he stares at you, “Aw why so mad? You’re the one asking for it,”
“We’ll see who’s asking for it once you uncuff me—“
SMACK!
And he hissed as your palm came down on his thigh, hard, red blooming against his skin, “what was that?” he still glared all the same, but his anger came apart at the seams with the way your fingers grazed his clothed cock, growing harder by the second, and fuck, the way he pulsed in your fingers, as his fat tip twitched when your fingers grazed his slit, “poor Sugu, you complain so much, but you fucking love this don’t you? Love being at my mercy with nowhere to go and nothing else to do but get jerked off,”
You cut off his reply with a snap of the elastic of his boxers against his skin, a gasp parting his pretty lips. And when you finally the tugged the soaked fabric down, you saw his pretty cock was as flushed as his cheeks were — the tip a pretty scarlet, dripping with pearly precum that you were dying to suck off, and the lovely veins that wrapped around his length like a Christmas present you were dying to unwrap.
“Fuuuuuck, baby—“ he sucks air through his teeth, the rattle of the metal of the cuffs against your bedframe, breath shaky as he watches you with half lidded eyes. you’re still teasing him, fingers tracing along the toned muscles of his inner thighs, so close to where he wants you, but too fucking far, “you g’nna toy with me all night or are you going to give me what we both want?”
“What we both want?” You raise an eyebrow, and he scoffs, all too confident for a man handcuffed at your will.
“Know you love getting me to blow my load as much as you love getting off yourself,” and then your fingers wrap around his base and squeeze, head lolling back, lips parted in a groan, hips thrusting into your touch.
“Think you’re putting too much value on your dick, Suguru,” and your thumb rubs meanly at his weeping slit, making him twitch under your touch, cuffs straining with the way he tugs harder and harder at them, rubbing his wrists raw, “should I show you your place?”
And you start to pump his rock hard cock slowly, gathering his pre as makeshift lube, before spitting directly onto his dick.
“You fucker,” he moans, nearly coming right there at the sight — it was too much, tip twitching at the feeling as you continue your excruciatingly slow pace, “don’t be a tease or you know I’ll give it right back to you, but worse,”
“Oh, I know you will,” you grin back, but oblige him, fisting him faster, his body arching into nearly a crescent as he jerked his hips into your fingers. And god, he’s fuckinh close — you know he is by the way he’s twitching in your hand and groaning your name, “cum f’me, Suguru, cum all over me,”
And he does, and he cums all over your fingers, pumping him through his orgasm, as his thick release coats your hand, dripping onto the sheets, “fuck, Suguru, you came so much,” you pull your hand away, licking each cum covered digit clean, “gotta do this more often if you’re gonna—“
You yelp, as he flips you over onto your stomach, your head turning as he pins you with his body, hardening erection pressed against your ass, holding your broken handcuffs in one hand and pushing his long black locks back with the other, dark eyes half lidded in pleasure and satisfaction—
“You think I’m gonna let this slide Princess?” And he’s teasing your wet entrance with his tip, “better think again,” and he’s handcuffing you to the headboard, both wrists caught as the chain linked through the metal bars of your headboard
“Suguru—“ and the you hear the distinct snap of his phone camera, as he smirks at you when you turn your head to look at him, right as he guides the tip of his cock inside you, a moan leaving your lips.
“You were wrong sweetheart, maybe I look good handcuffed but you’re perfect.”
NANAMI KENTO
You were the perfect wife. Kento’s perfect wife.
Not a single bad word could be uttered about you, whether within his earshot or not, Kento would know — and no one wanted to get on his bad side. Or they would most certainly face a swift punishment with his blunt blade and tie wrapped around his knuckles.
But that didn’t mean you couldn’t turn the tables on him once in a while. Right?
It was the perfect anniversary — a day spent together, a dinner shared at a five star restaurant, and now a night spent together in bed. But Kento had done so much for you — he had planned the day and the dinner — so the least you could do is repay the favor with dessert.
Well, for you anyway.
“Baby, let me—“ Kento gritted his teeth, straining against his own tie, the one you had lovingly wrapped around his wrists, holding his arms behind his back.
“You can handle a few more, can’t you, Kento? We still haven’t gotten to seven,” you pressed a kiss to the tip of his oversensitive cock — and fuck, you loved seeing him like this. The always put together, always professional, always business-like ratio sorcerer falling apart from your touch. You loved seeing the way his flush crawled up his neck until his cheekbones were flushed beautifully, the way his pristine hair was mussed and messy from your fingers running through it, and the way his pretty light eyes were dark and colored with lust — just for you.
And all it took was this — your lithe fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, kissing down his toned chest, paying special attention to every scar, until your hands found your buckle of his belt. You undo his belt with the same practiced ease, tugging down his slacks and boxers at once, until you see his pretty cock.
Or rather, your dessert.
How many times had he cum for you? Probably four or five times.
“Don’t tell me you’re already impatient, husband,” you suck at his weeping tip, making him grunt, thighs tensing as you let him slide past your lips into your warm mouth. And fuck, the heaviness of his cock against your tongue was nearly too much for you, pressing your thighs together, “after how long you spent fucking me last night, shouldn’t I repay the favor?”
And he had fucked you well — far too well. How many times did he make you beg for it — and yes it may have been at your request, but you also had wanted him to fuck you, fuck you with that dick you loved so much, but he spent so much of the night with his face buried in your cunt, not letting you get off the way you wanted, not until his perfect little wife was a blubbering mess for him.
So now it’s your turn.
You wouldn’t let him touch you, not until you had your fun — after all he had his dessert last night, and there’s more than you wanted right now than a stomach full of his cum.
He grunted, “Fuck sweetheart, how long are you gonna not let me touch you?” And you’re smirking against his length, humming around him, as you begin to bob up and down. And all he can do his watch you with half lidded eyes, “so fucking a mix of his precum and your saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth, “know you must be dripping, want to make you feel good too—“
And his sentence is cut off by you sucking hard, his balls grow tense, as he groans your name loudly, before he’s cumming again, thick release coating your throat. You swallow every drop, and each time he came, it was less, but it was still so much.
He’s panting and straining against his restraints, as you continue to suck and trace his dick through his orgasm, making him keen and moan at your touch, but almost flinch away all the same.
“Don’t run away from me, Kento,” you pull away from his cock, strings of cum and spit connecting his length to your lips, “my perfect man, there’s nothing more than I love to see you fall apart for me,” you lick your lips clean, palms sliding up his chest, as you lean over him, fingers carding through his blond locks again, before tugging hard, “you deserve to be taken care of, so I’ll let you choose,” he stares up at you, as your lips find his in a bruising kiss, your tongue dragging over the seam of his lips before slipping inside, letting him taste his cum on your mouth, “do you want to cum in my mouth or my cunt this time?”
His mouth opened, but no words came out for a moment, until he felt your fingers ghost over his overly sensitive cock again, “F-fuck—your cunt, sweetheart, need to be inside you, I can’t wait another—” and you’re on his lap in an instant, his swollen mushroom tip dragging against your sloppy cunt, and with the way he’s looking at you with dark, half lidded eyes, you knew his hands would have split you open on his cock in an instant, calloused palms from using his blunt blade using you as a glorified fuck toy, even as he whispered sweet nothings about how good you felt while fucking you like a whore.
So you would do the same for him.
You sunk onto him all at once, letting your hole engulf his length with the same eagerness you always had for him, so fucking good to watch his cock sink inside you, the curve of his length hitting places you could never reach, as if his ratio applied to your cunt too.
“Wanted this, didn’t you, love?” you ask, cupping his cheek to force him to meet your gaze, “wanted your wife’s pussy this bad? Is it that good for you?” And he’s groaning in reply, as you give a slow bounce, forcing his cock even deeper somehow, and he wants to touch you so bad, wants to grope your tits and squeeze your hips as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips and forced you deeper onto him, “tell me how good it is, Kento, and maybe I’ll let you cum,”
“It’s good, it’s s’good,” and you’re beginning to fuck yourself open on his cock, fingers finding his broad shoulders as your nails dug pretty crescents into his back as you fucked his dick, the sounds of skin slapping together ringing in his ears, “So perfect, just like you,” he’s not going to last long with how sensitive he is. And he cums just as his tip brushes against your womb, shooting a near blank, as his head falls back, until you’re pulling him back to you to meet in a messy kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, until you fall over the edge, soaking his dick and lap in your juices as you continue to ride him, until you slump against him, panting in his ear, murmuring:
“Happy anniversary, Kento.”
RYOMEN SUKUNA
“Fuck, ngh, Sukuna, don’t use—hah—“
“You can take it, woman, you have before,” and his fingers fuck deeper into you, while his other hands grope at you — your chest, your hips, your ass, “gotta open you up if you’re gonna take both of my cocks, unless you want me to read you apart,” he’s sinking a third finger inside you, your head falling back, exposing your neck to his lips, leaning down to graze your pulse with his teeth.
He just loved to do this — fuck you wide open with his fingers, let each of them stretch you out to no end, until you were begging for something else — anything else.
“Motherfucker,” he’s bullying your cunt open with three of his fingers, but it’s more squeezing than stretching, as your slick drips down his large hand, “you’re gonna break me with your goddamn fingers,” and his other hands tweak your nipples, pinching and twisting them, making you yelp, as the pleasure builds, his fourth hand teasing your abused clit.
“You’d fucking cum either way, whore,” and you glare for a millisecond until your traitorous cunt climaxes all the same, a long whine parting your lips as he fucks you knuckle deep, knocking at your cervix, through your orgasm, “shit, I see at least your slutty cunt can listen, unlike you,” and he’s still curling and twisting his fingers, before finally pulling them from you as you gasp, pussy aching from his touch, “complaining and yet you pruned my fingers, didn’t you?” he gives a smack to your twitching pussy, drawing another yelp from your lips, heat flooding your cheeks and anger rushing to your lips.
“Talk awful big for someone who has four fucking arms and that’s the only way you know how to make me cum,” you spit venom without thought of who you’re spitting it at, until your body freezes, as he flips you over with ease, looming over you, all four of those same arms crossed, “Kuna—I—”
“Is that so, brat? My fingers are the only thing that’s made you cum recently?” you stumble over your words, but his lips only curl into a mean grin, and you know you fucked up, “then let’s see about that,”
“You can do better than that,” he grunts, a smirk on his lips as he watches you, riding his thigh lamely, drenched cunt making a mess, your slick running down the sides of his leg, “so fucking wet just from rubbing your cunt on me, don’t even to do anything to make my pussy cum, she does that all on her own,”
You whimper, “Kuna, please—“ and he clicks his tongue.
“Said you only came from my fingers, didn’t you?” He shows off his tied arms behind his back, the very same he had you tie while your pussy throbbed, wanting nothing more than his fingers stuffed up your hole again, “we gotta fix that, brat. Can’t have you saying I can only get this slutty cunt cumming one way,” he flexes his thigh, making you jerk against it, the wet squelch of your pussy dragging up and down his thigh, until he’s making you ride it, bouncing you on the muscle.
God, why was every part of his body so fucking big?
He could feel your puffy clit and lips open wide on his toned thigh, as if he could stuff his whole fucking knee in your hole, and you know he would if he could, but he settles for feeling your sloppy cunt flutter around nothing, slick dripping down his leg.
He chuckles darkly, watching every movement with you, lidded eyes far too pleased with the view in front of him, “Seems like you don’t even need my help to get you off, do you brat?” he stops his movements, making you whine, and you can’t stop yourself from grinding down on his thigh, “that’s it, whore, need you to fucking soak me — think you’re so good, but when it comes down to it, you just want to be fucked like the rest of them, don’t you?”
He uses his knee to catch your clit, rubbing meanly against it, and it’s too much, pleasure making your toes curl, as you can only moan his name again and again, “Fuck,” your fingers find purchase on his shoulders, chasing your high, as you fucked yourself open on his thigh.
“That’s it girl, cum for me, let me see you break,” and he jerks his thigh again right as your cunt grinds down on him at just the right angle that has you seeing stars, “say my name,”
And you do as you squirt all over his thigh, a gasp ripped from your throat as you moan his name, your eyes burning as your hips can’t stop riding him, seeking that high longer, the squelch of your messy cunt growing louder with every thrust of your hips.
“Shit, that was a good orgasm, wasn’t it, woman? Much better than my fingers,” he flexes his thigh again, pulling another whine from your throat, legs shaking, but he only hums, as your eyes meet his, desperate and wanting, one that he only meets with a laugh, “practically begging for my cocks now, aren’t you, brat?” but he only clicks his tongue, “straddle me,”
You hesitate, only for him to jerk his thigh, making you yelp once again, as you shift, and he does the same, moving back onto his plush bed, your cunt rubs against his cocks, soaking him with your slick, but he only smiles.
“Did you think I would let you fuck my cocks that easily?” he sighs, shaking his head, “since I haven’t given you a proper orgasm, I think I have a lot of making up to do—” and he’s reaching around, slipping from your restraints with ease, “you’ll have to excuse my use of my hand this once, but I promise, I won’t be lifting another finger—” and he guides you forward, until you’re perched on his stomach, your hands splayed on his chest, as his hands slip back behind him. You furrow your brow a moment, lips parting with protest that dies on your lips when his stomach parts open for his large tongue to lap at your cunt, “you made such a mess, woman, now,” he forces you in place with his gaze alone, as his tongue licks the length of your sloppy cunt, “let’s clean you up, hm?”
CHOSO KAMO
“We don’t have to do this, Cho,”
You always did anything for him. From the moment you met him, you were the one to dote on him — even with how clueless he was about most things, from holding hands to kissing to even sex — you were willing to take your time, teach him what it meant to love. And he loved you — and he loved this.
“N-no, I’m fine, it just—hah, it feels so good,” and he looked even better.
His dark locks were untied as he looked up at you, arms tied in scarlet silk behind his back, much like the blood he manipulated, but instead it was you that was controlling him. The delicate yet strong Shibari knot was nestled at the base of his wrists, deep red against pale skin, more intricate knots climbed the base of his spine until the silk split across his back and winded around the middle of his shoulders towards his neck.
A knot formed at the base of his neck, right between his collarbone, multiple other loops framed his body, a present not meant to be unwrapped. Knots placed intricately at every pleasure point meaning that even the slightest touch, movement, or even breath would send pleasure thrumming through his body.
“Doesn’t it feel good to take our time?” Your fingers brushed delicately over a knot placed against his nipple, making him jolt, sending ripples of heat across his body, as the rubbing of the knots sent arousal right to his erection, “you’re always in such a rush, so eager, but now,” your fingers follow the silk down his body, down to the knots settled on either side against the base of his cock, “we can take it slow,”
And he was always quick to have you — from the first time, Choso barely had lasted you grazing his raging hard erection while your lips found his, before spilling all over your fingers. And he had sputtered apologies, cheeks as red as the silk that now bound him, but you had only smiled and asked him if he liked it. He spent the rest of the night spilling over and over again in your cunt, and each time after, he barely needed foreplay, he could cum just by eating you out — all he wanted and needed was to be buried in your cunt.
But now, he was at your mercy.
“So pretty, Cho,” you cooed, eyes sliding over him just as sweat slipped down his neck — he was spread open by the loops of red forcing him into a kneel around his thighs and ankles, even ropes tied around his hips with knots placed perfectly against his inner thighs, “usually I can’t even touch you without you pinning me down, but now I can do all I want,”
“Please, love, I need—“ and you lean down to kiss the hollow of his throat, fingers toying with the silk between your fingers, and every little movement of the ropes sent pleasure cascading down his body, “ngh, want you—“
“What do you want, Choso?” Your fingers work your way down every inch of him, “because there’s so much I can give you—-“
“Anything,” he replies, as the knots rub against his leaking cock, precum slipping down his halls, “everything, please I just need—“ and you click your tongue.
“Still so impatient,” and your touch leaves him, making him whimper, “I guess we’ll have to work on that,”
“Baby, no, can’t. No more—“ a beautiful symphony of moans leaves his lips, as your lips find his to swallow his protests, a vibrator in hand pressed to the base of his cock, “I can’t—-“
“You can cum still, Cho, one more time f’me,” cum is splattered on your carpet, and runs down his dick, “you’re so good for me, such a good boy, aren’t you?” Your praise makes him keen all the same, “know you love this, love feeling good — you’re so needy, probably would just bury your cock in my cunt,” and he’s whining, as your fingers tug on his black locks, your tongue dragging up the side of his throat, before your teeth dig into the soft flesh of your neck, “but we can’t have that, not yet — gotta make you cum so much that just burying you in my pussy is enough to make you cum,”
And you’re turning up the vibrator, and he moans your name, a rush of heat sent right to your cunt. Your eyes watch his dick twitch — he’s more long than thick, his tip flushed an angry red as you work the vibrator up and down. You couldn’t wait to stuff him inside you, feel the curve of his cock reach every inch of your cunt, until he’s fucking your stomach.
“F-fuck, I’m close—I’m gonna—“ and you turn the vibrator higher, pressing it right between the base of his cock as you tug on the silk right against it, and he’s coming again, with a cry of your name, spilling all over his stomach and chest and the ropes, “sweets, fuck, hah, please, please, I can’t—”
You ease away the vibrator, the whirring quieting, as he looked up at you with his eyes, violet pupils so dark that they nearly look black, a trickle of his spit slipping from his lips.
“You did so good, baby, so so good,” and you’re pressing soft kisses to his face, fingers tracing over the hickies you had littered his neck with, “and now tell me what you want baby,”
“I want you, want you to fuck me, need you to—“ and you’re pushing him back, still spread open from the ropes before you settle on top of him, his needy dick already hard from the rubbing from the ropes and the feeling of your wet cunt against him.
And you grin, before letting his cock split you open, down to the base, making his back arch into you, the twitch of his tip telling you he would cum again in two seconds flat — just as he did for you, “Anything for you, Choso.”
TOJI FUSHIGURO
Toji loved it when you were desperate for him.
And you always nearly were. You had the habit of jumping his bones the minute he made his way back from another bounty, not to mention the times he feigned to be late, you were already an orgasm and half ahead of him in the bedroom, taunting him for being late. And it was the most mundane of things that could turn you on — the simple adjustment of his pants, a smile he flashed you after a joke, lifting his shirt to scratch his stomach, and even running his fingers through his hair.
Just one of those things would have you tugging him home and neither of you would see the outside of your bedroom for the next two days.
That being said, when he actually messed with you…well—
“Toji,” you glare at him, gaze a mixture of frustration and lust, “if you tease me on this car ride home, I swear to god—“
“Swear what, doll?” He drawled, eyes still fixed on the road, lips pulled into that same smirk he always had, “not like you won’t be able to resist fucking yourself stupid on my dick when we get home,”
“Fuck off,” you scowl out the window, and his smirk only grows larger, cock stirring in his pants. He loved riling you up — especially when it was so easy, but also because it made him want to fuck you all the same, until you were begging him with glassy eyes and slutty moans.
It had only started because he saw a man at the store eye you the wrong way. So his hand slid to the small of your back, turning to meet the gaze of the man leering before squeezing your ass, drawing a gasp from your lips and a pout. And he didn’t miss the subtle press of your thighs together as you walked off, the way your eyes lingered on him, dragging down until your teeth bore down on your bottom lip.
Fuck. And he couldn’t stop. Then it was him pressing up behind you while you were rifling through clothes, letting you feel his half hard erection. And then he was pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck in the changing room when you asked him to zip you up in a dress.
“That’s exactly what I wanna do, doll,” he turns the corner, “wanna fuck you open with my fingers until you beg me to stop, want our neighbors to hear how I slut you out every night,” your fingers curl into the fabric of your dress, and he knows you must be a mess under that thin fabric, soaking through your panties, “don’t make a fucking mess of your seat, car’s a loaner from Shiu,”
“And who’s fault is it that I’m making a mess in the first place, asshole?” And your husband shrugs, leaning back as he rolls to a stop at the last light before you rolled into your neighborhood. His hand reaches across the console, his large, calloused palm sliding up your bare thigh, until it breaches your edge of your underwear, making your body tense. And the pads of his fingers press against the soaking fabric of panties.
“Well, who’s the one who’s wet like a whore from a few words right now?” And finally the light turns green, and his hand retreats, instead resting on your thigh, drawing circles on your knee with his thumb, same smug grin on his lips, “almost home, and I’ll shut her up, won’t I?”
And he would — but you’d shut him up too.
“Hah, To-ji, fuck, s’good—“ and his lips close around your puffy clit and suck hard, his tongue slipping in and out of your messy hole, “k-knew your mouth was good for something,” and you yelp when you feel his teeth bite your clit, before he’s redoubling his efforts, swirling, sucking, and licking, “not so fucking annoying when your mouth is full,” your moans fill his ears, and he growls against your folds, his wrists bound with a cursed tool that neutralized his strength, one that you had slipped from his collection for a moment like this.
Shit, he was so fucking hard, and he couldn’t even fist himself, but more than that, he wanted to pin you down, stuff your cunt full of his fingers until you begged for him to stop. His tongue wasn’t enough for his slutty pussy, he wanted to fuck you right — the way he wanted. But if this was the game you wanted to play, he would — his wrists rubbed raw from trying to slip from his restraints — for now.
He slurps at your sweet cunt, large tongue licking a stripe after stripe up your messy cunt, grinding down, as his nose bumped and dragged against your clit, “Such a fucking slut, soaking my face like this — wanna cum so bad, g’nna tie me up just so you can get yourself off?”
“Ngh, it’s your fucking fault pulling that shit in the mall, if you hadn’t—” you moan, cutting you off by tongue fucking your cunt open, swallowing every drop of your juices as he bullied your walls open with that sharp tongue of his.
“It’s not my fault your fucking ass attracts the attention of every freak in sight—”
You scoff, “Like you?” and he chuckles darkly, making your smirk drop from your lips, as he grinds his face into your folds, his face glossy with your pre, as dark eyes meet yours, and you can feel the smirk against your needy pussy.
“But this is the freak that fucks you isn’t it?” his tongue traces fast circles around your clit, “the freak you beg to fuck you open every night, the one who’s dick you can’t enough of, the one who’s face you’re fucking, isn’t that right, wife?”
And you’re so fucking close, the way he ate you out was the same way he kissed you, as if he wanted to take you, all of you, until his jaw would ache, until tears ran down your face, until there was nothing left of you for him to taste.
“Toji, I’m close—I can’t—” and he’s grunting, as he sucks hard on your clit, licking and slurping at your pussy.
“Cum, make a fucking mess on my face,” and you do, cumming hard as you moan his name, but he continues to eat you out as you ride out your orgasm, not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste — lapping and sucking until you finally stilled, your panting filling the silence of the room.
Until you heard a rip.
And then you were on your back, ripped up parts of the cursed tool tossed aside, as Toji grinned down at you, lips and chin still shiny with your release, as his pink tongue darted out to collect it.
“Toji—I—” and he’s smirking down at you, tilting his head, as he forces your thighs apart to reveal your all too sensitive folds, “ngh, please, I can’t—”
He clicks his tongue, licking his lips agai, “Now, lemme show you how much of a freak I am, doll.”
✧ a/n: this was an anon request i got a while back and i've had gojo's written for so long, but i got hit hella by writer's block and imposter's syndrome so, well here it is now :). this is to tide you guys over as i work through some larger projects
#sab [mlist]#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru smut#geto suguru smut#nanami kento smut#toji fushiguro smut#sukuna smut#choso kamo smut#gojo x reader#geto x reader#nanami x reader#sukuna x reader#toji x reader#choso x reader#jjk x reader#choso smut#geto smut#gojo smut#toji smut#ryomen sukuna smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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